UC-NRLF 


THE  NEW  AMERICA 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  -    BOSTON   •    CHICAGO  •   DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •   SAN  FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  '-.MITED 

LONDON  •   BOMB/"       CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  LTO. 

TORONTO 


THE 
NEW  AMERICA 


BY 

AN  ENGLISHMAN 

FRANK  DILNOT 

Author  of  "Lloyd  George :  the  Man 
and  pis  Story,"  etc. 


I3eto  goth 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1919 

All  rights  reserved 


COPTEIGHT,  1919 

BY  THE   MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published,  January,  1919 


FOREWORD 

Impressions  sometimes  equal  facts  and  figures  as 
evidence.  Now  and  again  they  are  even  more  im 
portant.  New  feelings  have  been  sweeping  America 
in  the  past  two  years,  and  they  are  feelings  which 
must  leave  their  effect  on  people  all  over  the  world 
for  a  long  time  to  come.  No  one  can  doubt  that  one 
way  or  another  they  will  be  of  towering  importance 
to  Britain  and  the  British  people.  As  an  English 
man  resident  in  America  during  this  period  I  have 
touched  various  sides  of  life  and  have  formed  feel 
ings  about  the  American  people  in  what  is  probably 
an  historic  phase  of  their  development  as  a  nation. 
The  sketches  that  follow  will  reveal  to  Americans 
the  angle  of  an  ordinary  Englishman,  and  to  my  own 
people  will  give  perhaps  a  measure  of  information. 

What  I  have  written  is  not  recklessly  laudatory 
for  I  pay  to  my  American  friends  the  tribute  of  sin 
cerity.  I  trust  however  they  may  find  an  indica 
tion,  imperfect  as  it  must  be,  of  the  affection  engen 
dered  by  unceasing  kindness  extended  to  me  as  to 
all  my  countrymen.  Of  the  latter  several  thousands 


Foreward 

have  been  in  America  on  war  work,  many  of  them 
distinguished  men  whose  names  are  often  in  the  pa 
pers,  all  of  them  experts  in  their  various  spheres  of 
activity.  They  take  back  to  Britain  a  new  vision  of 
America.  And  they  are  missionaries  in  a  double 
sense  for  it  is  certain  they  have  spread  among  ac 
tive  circles  in  the  United  States  a  better  understand 
ing  of  British  character,  possibly  also  of  British 
capacity.  These  men  for  years  to  come  will  be  pay 
ing  tribute  not  only  to  the  dynamic  force  of  Amer 
ican  genius  in  emergency,  but  also  to  American  tem 
perament,  its  sparkle,  generosity  and  idealism.  In 
common  with  them  I  realize  the  surface  variations 
which  must  ever  exist  between  the  two  nations.  In 
common  with  them  also  I  realize  more  than  ever  the 
basic  unity  between  the  two  English  speaking  peo 
ples.  Americans  and  British  have  had  to  fight  to 
gether  and  they  have  also  had  to  work  together.  The 
fighting  is  over  but  they  have  to  go  on  working  to 
gether.  The  more  we  know  each  other's  daily  life 
the  better.  Genial  frankness  is  one  of  the  tests  of 
friendship.  Those  of  us  who  have  dived  into  Amer 
ican  life  have  been  always  stimulated,  sometimes  be 
wildered,  generally  delighted.  We  have  found  that 
a  first  class  American  and  a  first  class  Briton  are  a 
rare  combination  when  there  is  anything  to  be  done. 
Our  very  differences  bind  us  together.  The  effect  of 


Foreword 

proper  Englishmen  on  proper  Americans  is  some 
thing  I  cannot  write  on  though  I  have  hopes.  On 
the  other  hand  I  can  say  from  personal  knowledge 
that  American  friends  leave  on  an  Englishman  a  mark 
for  life. 

F.  D. 
New  York,  December  1918. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

I    THE  VISION  OF  NEW  YORK 1 

II  FOOD,  DRESS,  DRINK  AND  TAXICABS  ....     12 

III  THE  WRITTEN  AND  SPOKEN  WORD     ....     22 

IV  HUSTLE  AND  HUMOUR 29 

V    THE  AMERICAN  WOMAN 37 

VI  WHAT  AMERICAN  PUBLIC  MEN  ARE  REALLY  LIKE    45 

VII  WHAT  AMERICANS  THINK  OF  THE  ENGLISH  .     .     58 

VIII    WASHINGTON 66 

IX  PRESIDENT  WILSON  AT  CLOSE  QUARTERS  ...     76 

X  AMUSEMENTS  AND  SOME  CONTRASTS  ....     83 

XI  MY  MOST  INTERESTING  AMERICAN     ....     95 

XII    AMERICA  AT  WAR 108 

XIII  SHIPS  AND  AEROPLANES 119 

XIV  CHICAGO  AND  DETROIT 130 

XV  ENGLAND  THROUGH  A  TELESCOPE      ....  139 


THE  NEW  AMERICA 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    VISION    OF    NEW   YORK 

I  CAME  across  the  Atlantic  when  America  was  at 
peace.  At  eight  on  a  piercing  winter  morning  pas 
sengers  of  early  enterprise  brought  into  the  saloon 
of  an  American  liner  the  news  that  the  United  States 
was  visible,  and,  in  company  with  a  peer  of  Eng 
land  and  a  young  South  African  engineer  and  his 
wife,  I  went  out  on  deck  to  see  it. 

Romance  beclouds  any  sight  of  a  new  land  and 
especially  of  America.  To  an  Englishman  there  are 
generations  of  history  for  his  race  enshrined  for  him 
in  this  first  glance.  Somewhere  behind  that  break  in 
the  horizon  is  a  mysterious  nation  of  genius  set  in  a 
continent  of  magnitude  and  beauty.  No  pulse  but 
what  beats  a  little  quicker  at  its  approach.  It  is  one 
of  the  big  moments.  In  me  the  thrill  was  not  absent 
on  that  January  morning,  but  I  was  tantalized  rather 
than  satisfied.  Across  a  drab  sea  in  the  distance 
was  a  strip  of  low-lying  land  with  some  box-like  erec- 


2  The  New  America 

tions  on  it — houses  and  hotels — and  we  were  told  this 
was  Coney  Island — of  which  some  of  us  had  read  in 
0.  Henry.  It  looked  cold  and  flat  and  barren.  "You 
ought  to  see  it  in  the  summer,"  some  one  said.  The 
words  seemed  empty.  Where  was  the  America  that 
filled  the  imagination? 

The  next  time  I  went  out  on  deck  the  city  of  New 
York  was  staring  us  full  in  the  face.  My  first  im 
pression  as  we  came  to  the  point  of  Manhattan  Island 
was  a  hodge-podge  of  buildings — warehouse-like 
buildings  to  an  English  eye — severely  squared,  enor 
mously  irregular  in  height,  and  all  of  them  mottled 
with  little  windows  at  rigid  intervals  from  top  to 
bottom.  It  was  a  cubist  picture.  The  great  tow 
ers  made  a  crudely  irregular  skyline,  and  yet  the 
whole  had  an  overpowering  square  uniformity  which 
I  knew  was  misleading.  Then  I  picked  out  what 
seemed  cathedral  spires,  and  dignity.  It  was  incred 
ible  without  the  actual  sight  that  so  much  of  building 
should  be  established  on  any  given  space  of  land. 
In  this  initial  glimpse  of  New  York  I  had  a  flash  of 
knowledge..  The  peaks  of  human  endeavour  were 
here.  Not  that  I  had  full  comprehension.  A  grim 
secret  power  about  this  huge,  ungainly,  orderly 
colossus  of  a  city  warmed  the  blood  one  moment,  and 
caused  a  shiver  the  next.  Mysterious  strength  lay 
within  its  portals.  It  was  ugly,  overwhelming,  stimu 
lating. 


The  Vision  of  New  York  3 

We  sidled  into  the  pier,  and  within  a  few  minutes 
we  heard  the  American  language  in  its  full  strength 
and  savour.  The  language  meant  a  real  touch  with 
this  new  world  of  human  beings.  Later  I  found  that 
the  people,  similar  in  fundamental  emotions  to  those 
in  old  Britain,  were  in  many  of  the  relations  of  life 
quite  different,  and  in  some  every-day  habits  and  ex 
pressions  at  least  their  three  thousand  miles  away. 
On  that  cold  January  morning  I  was  plunged  into  a 
world  of  speech  where  it  is  affectation  to  say  "Bos 
ton"  when  you  mean  "Bawston,"  to  say  "last"  when 
you  mean  "laast,"  where  it  means  confusion,  even 
incoherence,  not  to  speak  slowly,  very  slowly,  where 
it  is  essential  to  linger  over  the  vowels  and  let  some 
of  the  consonants  take  care  of  themselves. 

Strangers  from  Europe  come  over  filled  with  the 
knowledge  of  the  hustling  methods  and  rapid  minds 
of  Americans  and  find  them  to  be  on  the  whole  the 
slowest  speaking  people  on  earth.  They  get  some 
thing  additional  out  of  words  that  way,  extract  all 
their  savour,  make  them  mean  more.  All  the  same 
the  slowness,  quite  apart  from  accent  and  phrases  goes 
towards  a  different  language.  Not  till  later  on  did  I 
get  the  full  force  of  this  discovery.  Impressions 
were  too  numerous  and  swiftly  successive  in  those  first 
few  hours  for  separate  analysis. 

One  thing  stands  out  and  that  was  my  immediate 
experience  of  the  generous  spirit  of  Americans  to  a 


4  The  New  America 

stranger  coming  to  their  land.  On  the  pier  collecting 
my  baggage  I  was  debating  as  to  what  hotel  I  should 
drive  when  a  New  Yorker  with  whom  I  had  made  the 
passage  learning  of  my  thoughts  sent  them  all  to  the 
right-about.  He  insisted  on  taking  me  to  his  club, 
fixing  me  up  there  in  comfort  and  introducing  me  to 
friends  so  that  I  should  have  immediately  the  touch  of 
good  fellowship  in  a  strange  country.  His  own  peo 
ple  were  awaiting  him  and  he  was  anxious  to  see  them, 
but  he  put  aside  his  personal  concerns  and  insisted  on 
driving  me  to  his  club  and  installing  me.  I  shall  not 
soon  forget  his  kindness  nor  that  of  his  friends  to 
whom  I  was  introduced.  Such  is  America's  way. 

That  I  did  not  fully  appreciate  all  the  New  Yorker 
did  for  me  in  those  initial  hours  is  due  to  the  lessons 
from  material  things  which  were  crowding  each  other. 
We  drove  along  Broadway,  famed  the  world  over  as 
one  of  the  great  thoroughfares,  and  through  adjoining 
streets,  and  so  bad  was  the  roadway  that  we  rocked 
and  swayed  like  an  English  channel  steamer  under 
a  south  westerly  gale.  We  passed  through  Sixth 
Avenue  which  with  some  other  thoroughfares  is  dis 
figured  to  a  European  eye  by  the  elevated  electric 
railway  on  its  iron  pillars.  The  sight  alone  is  nerve 
racking — and  when  you  add  the  almost  continual  rat 
tle  of  the  trains  overhead  you  produce  in  the  newcomer 
a  state  of  mind  which  treats  as  absurdly  inadequate 
the  ameliorative  statement  that  New  York  has  the 


The  Vision  of  New  York  5 

best  traffic  facilities  of  all  great  cities.  And  then  one 
is  suddenly  cured  of  the  distemper  by  emerging  into 
Fifth  Avenue,  among  the  most  dignified  and  handsome 
streets  in  the  world,  free  from  railways,  trolley  cars 
or  disturbing  advertisements,  dignified  by  private 
palaces  and  great  churches  set  amid  shops  that  re 
semble  public  institutions  in  their  scope,  their  archi 
tecture,  the  richness,  reserve,  and  artistry  of  their  dis 
play.  There  are  miles  of  Fifth  Avenue.  More  than 
one  individual  mile  among  them  is  worth  a  visit  from 
Europe. 

But  of  all  outward  things  that  made  a  mark  on  me 
that  cold  January  day  I  think  the  most  notable  was  the 
busy  portion  of  Broadway  after  dark.  I  had  come 
from  London  threatened  with  German  air-craft,  be- 
dimmed  in  all  its  lights,  and  on  my  first  evening  in 
New  York  I  went  out  from  44th  Street  into  Broadway, 
with  its  seas  of  people  ebbing  and  flowing  on  the  side 
walks,  with  its  offices  and  hotels  going  skyward,  with 
its  roadway  vibrating  from  the  trains  running  beneath 
the  surface  and  the  trolley  cars  above  it,  and  with  the 
whole  scene — here  is  the  point — lighted  up  like  a 
theatre  stage.  There  are  street  lamps,  I  suppose,  in 
Broadway  but  I  have  never  noticed  them.  They  do 
not  matter.  Glowing  restaurants  and  shops  and  the 
atres  and  hotels  put  them  in  obscurity,  and,  surpassing 
all,  there  are  ever  active  electric  tableaux  high  above 
on  roofs  or  on  the  front  of  high  buildings,  telling  in 


6  The  New  America 

pictures  of  light,  the  advantages  of  brands  of  ma 
chinery,  of  chewing  gum,  whiskey,  sewing  cotton  or 
theatrical  performances.  These  electric  signs  are  the 
joy  and  pride  of  Broadway.  They  constitute  a  pan 
orama  and  make  the  wide  thoroughfare  as  far  as  one 
can  see  in  each  direction  as  light  as  day.  Half  way 
to  Heaven  there  is  a  flickering  everchanging  multi 
coloured  fountain  with  moving  mannikins  inset,  the 
whole  reminding  one  of  the  set  fireworks  at  the  Crys 
tal  Palace,  only  it  is  continuous,  not  for  seconds,  but 
for  hours.  Nearby,  outlined  against  the  sky,  is  the 
moving  picture  of  a  kitten  thirty  feet  long  on  its  back 
playing  with  a  spool  of  cotton,  entangling  itself,  its 
eyes  sparkling  with  fun  and  bewilderment,  and  sud 
denly  finding  release  in  readiness  for  a  continuation 
of  the  gambol.  In  another  place  a  huntsman  is  rais 
ing  his  gun  to  his  shoulder  firing  bullets  of  light  at 
birds  of  light,  one  of  which  he  unfailingly  brings 
down  every  time.  There  is  a  dazzling  picture  of  a 
butterfly,  alive  with  shimmering  hues,  alighting  on  a 
half  open  rose  in  natural  colours,  and  that  glittering 
butterfly  must  be  a  dozen  feet  across  at  least.  These 
are  but  samples  of  the  Broadway  tableau  at  night. 
To  some  I  suppose  it  would  give  the  effect  of  blatancy. 
To  one  straight  from  darkened  Europe  these  palpi 
tating  acres  of  light  extended  a  sense  of  vitality  and 
amazing  good  cheer. 

Here  then  were  the  broad  outlines  of  the  setting 


The  Vision  of  New  York  7 

of  a  great  community — a  community  stranger  in  many 
ways  to  an  Englishman  than  those  older  peoples  in 
Europe  which  spoke  not  his  own  tongue.  To  find  out 
the  great  secret  of  this  complex  nation  so  full  of  con 
trasts,  so  reputedly  material  on  the  one  hand,  so  high 
minded  on  the  other,  so  intensely  practical  while  at 
the  same  time  flaming  with  a  spiritual  patriotism  un 
surpassed  in  history — here  was  a  riddle  not  to  be 
solved  in  a  day  or  in  a  month,  or  even  in  a  year.  The 
soul  of  a  nation  is  no  more  to  be  observed  at  a  glance 
than  the  soul  of  a  man.  My  task  it  has  been  to  take 
note  of  the  externals,  of  the  symbols  so  to  speak,  to 
try  to  extract  some  messages  from  them,  not  sepa 
rately,  but  as  a  whole.  That  I  have  to  observe  them 
with  an  English  eye  and  appraise  them  by  English 
standards  is  because  I  am  an  Englishman.  And  if  I 
do  this  it  is  consciously,  and  not  blindly,  and  with 
the  full  knowledge  that  the  Americans  have  a  standard 
of  their  own,  the  American  standard,  that  they  proudly 
live  their  own  life. 

The  bewilderment  of  the  recently  arrived  English 
man  is  best  illustrated  by  personal  contacts,  and  it  is 
easy  to  provide  a  sample  or  two  which  makes  the 
visitor  clap  his  hand  to  his  head.  No  one  can  be 
more  than  a  week  or  two  in  New  York  without  being 
conscious  of  the  alert  sympathy  of  the  new  people  he 
finds  around  him,  their  readiness  to  help  each  other, 
their  quick  desire  to  help  even  those  they  do  not  know. 


8  The  New  America 

They  are  naturally  cheerful.  There  are  no  bars  of 
class  distinction  or  stern  etiquette  to  keep  people  apart 
as  in  the  old  countries,  and  this  lends  itself  to  a  help 
fulness  and  friendliness  which  is  delightful  to  a  vis 
itor.  The  charity  of  New  Yorkers  both  public  and 
private  is  boundless.  The  courtesy  and  gracious  man 
ners  of  people  in  educated  circles  could  not  be  bet 
tered  in  any  society  in  the  world — and  indeed  in  its 
unaffectedness  and  genuineness  it  is  probably  su 
preme.  And  yet  in  spite  of  all  this  the  stranger  from 
across  the  Atlantic,  till  he  gets  acclimatized,  is 
jarred  and  shocked  by  the  new  and  unaccustomed 
manners  of  the  people  in  the  streets — the  ordinary 
work-a-day  people.  They  do  not  mean  to  be  unman- 
nered  of  course,  and  would  probably  be  immensely 
surprised  if  they  were  informed  of  the  impression 
they  make.  The  standard  is  different,  that  is  all.  A 
crowd  on  the  subway  is  a  good  example.  It  is  as  dif 
ferent  from  a  London  crowd  or  a  Paris  crowd  as  Chi 
cago  is  from  Moscow.  No  person  stands  aside  for 
another  in  a  hurry.  Rarely  is  there  an  apology.  No 
one  says  "Thank  you"  for  a  railway  ticket.  I  have 
yet  to  see  a  smiling  query  or  a  smiling  response  be 
tween  officials  and  passengers.  And  all  of  these 
things  are  commonplaces  in  the  old  world,  common 
places  which  are  not  only  smooth  and  pleasant  but 
which  accelerate  the  business  of  life.  Once  in  a  sub 
way  a  well  dressed  young  man  and  woman,  probably 


The  Vision  of  New  York  9 

sweethearts,  were  seated  opposite  me.  The  girl 
dropped  her  gloves.  I  leaned  forward,  picked  them 
up  and  returned  them  to  her.  The  man  took  them 
from  me.  Neither  he  nor  his  companion  uttered  one 
word  of  thanks.  I  should  like  to  think  they  did  not 
speak  our  language,  but  I  fear  the  worst. 

It  has  been  explained  to  me  that  the  continual  flow 
of  foreigners  into  New  York  is  largely  responsible  for 
this  condition  of  things.  I  wonder  if  that  is  really  so. 
I  was  a  frequent  visitor  to  the  beautiful  public  library 
on  Fifth  Avenue.  On  six  occasions — I  counted  them 
after  the  first  two — it  was  my  privilege  in  passing  out 
or  passing  in  to  hold  the  door  open  for  a  we)l  dressed 
woman,  young  or  old,  going  in  or  coming  out,  and 
on  only  one  of  these  occasions  did  the  lady  in  question 
say  "Thank  you"  or  indeed  give  the  slightest  indica 
tion  that  some  one  was  performing  an  act  of  courtesy. 
It  may  indeed  be  that  this  is  a  sidelight  on  the  tribute 
that  all  American  men  pay  to  women,  that  acts  of 
courtesy  are  taken  to  be  so  natural  and  commonplace 
as  to  call  for  no  recognition.  It  is  probable  those 
ladies  were  all  charming  in  private  life,  and  would 
have  been  seriously  hurt  at  the  thought  that  they  could 
be  ungracious  in  any  kind  of  contact.  Probably,  too, 
an  American  man  would  not  have  noticed  their  silence. 
To  an  Englishman  it  seemed  strange  and  is  therefore 
worthy  of  note.  I  have  the  less  hesitation  in  writing 
down  this  incident  in  view  of  my  early  knowledge  of 


10  The  New  America 

the  intensive  charm  in  American  women,  their  wit, 
their  camaraderie  and  intellectuality.  I  take  my  hat 
off  to  them  all  the  time. 

After  all  this  was  only  one  of  a  hundred  contrasts. 
Let  me  give  another  of  a  different  kind.  In  the  early 
hours  of  one  morning  I  saw  fire  engines  arriving  on  a 
street  off  Broadway.  The  policemen  were  keeping 
back  persons  who  like  myself  came  hurrying  up.  I 
stood  unmolested  for  a  moment  or  two,  then  a  police 
man  approached  swinging  the  inevitable  stick  and  I 
looked  for  the  stern  injunction  of  the  London  bobby. 
I  did  not  get  it.  He  walked  up  to  me  like  a  friend 
and  said  quietly,  almost  confidentially,  "Hadn't  you 
better  be  moving?"  He  inclined  his  head  across  the 
street.  "The  chief  is  round  here."  Who  could  re 
sist  such  an  appeal? 

At  the  next  block  I  fell  in  with  a  friend,  a  news 
paper  man  on  the  way  home.  He  asked  me  to  have 
a  drink  and  I  said  a  word  of  surprise  as  I  had  an 
idea  that  by  law  all  refreshment  houses  at  that  hour 
were  closed.  He  smiled  at  my  innocence,  took  me  by 
the  arm,  crossed  the  street,  knocked  three  times  on 
the  darkened  window  of  a  particular  saloon,  and  a 
minute  later  we  were  comfortably  seated  in  the  back 
part  of  the  restaurant  awaiting  the  arrival  of  two 
Scotch  whiskeys.  Other  customers  were  there  too, 
all  quietly  respectable.  I  blessed  my  friend's  kindly 
thought,  as  well  as  the  benevolent  lenity  of  New  York 


The  Vision  of  New  York  11 

government.  And  then  I  shuddered  at  the  harsh 
logicality  of  the  rulers  of  London,  and  the  thought 
of  how  such  elasticity,  even  spasmodically  indulged 
in,  would  bring  inevitable  business  ruin  as  well  as 
personal  punishment,  and  provide  incidentally  a  small 
sensation  for  the  newspapers.  I  suppose  on  this  oc 
casion  I  broke  the  law.  I  make  my  apologies.  I 
cannot  refrain  from  saying  I  thoroughly  enjoyed  it. 
Perhaps  I  ought  to  add  that  all  this  was  a  year  ago. 
Very  likely  such  facilities  do  not  exist  now. 


CHAPTER  II 

FOOD,    DRESS,    DRINK   AND    TAXICABS 

I  HAVE  heard  the  genial  lamentations  of  Americans  in 
England  on  the  absence  of  steam  heat  in  the  houses 
and  ice  water  at  meals,  and  was  inclined  to  smile 
until  after  a  brief  period  in  America  I  realized  how 
one  was  a  necessity  as  well  as  a  comfort,  and  the 
other  a  luxury,  the  loss  of  which  becomes  a  tragedy 
with  the  temperature  one  hundred  degrees  in  the 
shade.  But  steam  heat  and  ice  water  are  only  two 
of  the  novelties  to  an  Englishman.  The  automobiles 
of  New  York  and  in  a  lesser  degree  of  other  American 
cities,  are  not  only  one  of  the  sights  but  one  of  the 
emotions.  Sometimes  they  pack  the  streets.  Al 
ways  they  provide  an  ever  moving  flood.  There  is 
nothing  of  the  kind  to  be  seen  in  Europe.  Everybody 
who  is  anybody  has  an  automobile  of  some  kind,  and 
the  interstices  are  filled  with  taxicabs,  ownership 
ranging  from  the  pride  of  a  Pierce  Arrow  or  Rolls 
Royce  to  pride  no  less  in  a  lowly  Ford.  Dramatic 
the  revelation  of  prosperity  which  allows  so  many 

thousands  of  persons  to  possess  these  cars.     There  is 

12 


Food,  Dress,  Drink  and  Taxicabs  13 

a  far-flung  automobile  comradeship.  I  should  think 
there  might  even  be  a  literature  in  view  of  the  close 
ness  with  which  the  automobile  is  welded  into  the  life 
of  the  people.  In  New  York  the  cars  introduce  a 
new  element  into  human  affairs  not  only  with  regard 
to  those  who  own  them  but  to  those  who  as  pedestrians 
tolerate,  avoid,  or  suffer  them.  They  are  as  the  fishes 
of  the  sea  in  number,  and  as  swift,  as  silent,  and  as 
elusive.  Their  pace  is  staggering  to  witness.  They 
turn  corners  with  a  speed  and  at  an  acuteness  of 
angle  which  leaves  a  newcomer  breathless  till  he 
learns  the  astonishing  skill  of  the  drivers  and  the  sup 
pleness  of  the  instruments  they  handle.  Those  knights 
of  the  road,  the  taxi-drivers,  are  past  masters  in  the 
avoidance  of  death  for  themselves  and  their  charges. 
To  the  spectator  from  abroad  they  seem  almost  capable 
of  making  their  cars  rear  up  on  their  hind  wheels  in 
face  of  some  sudden  emergency.  When  they  want 
to  turn  they  spin  round  in  the  middle  of  the  road  with 
freedom  and  suddenness.  At  intervals  they  lounge 
along  by  the  sidewalk  and  then  go  off  at  lightning 
speed.  They  perform  swift  letter  S's  among  the 
traffic.  They  dart  unexpectedly  up  side  streets.  As 
to  the  feelings  of  a  pedestrian,  many  a  time  have  I 
had  the  impression  that  an  idling  taxicab  has  sud 
denly  leaped  to  its  top  speed  to  reach  me  before  I 
could  get  across  the  road.  Others  have  felt  the  same. 
I  have  made  myself  a  solemn  vow  that  I  will  not  be 


14  The  New  America 

run  down  by  a  taxicab  in  New  York.     It  is  one  of 
the  preoccupations  of  my  days  and  nights. 

A  new  arrival  will  find  the  Americans  more  care 
fully  dressed  than  English  people — than  Londoners 
for  instance.  There  is  a  punctiliousness  in  the  way 
the  men  dress  which  is  striking  and  ever  present,  and 
it  is  noticeable  not  only  among  the  well-to-do  but  also 
right  down  through  the  various  grades  of  what  may 
be  called  the  lower  middle  classes.  The  ordinary 
men  in  the  street,  the  clerk,  the  official,  the  store 
keeper  all  are  smart,  and  trim,  with  well  pressed 
trousers,  and  bright  boots.  It  is  true  that  with  the 
younger  men  there  is  a  taste  for  a  brighter  colour  in 
neckties,  a  wider  stripe  on  the  soft  shirts  than  is  liked 
by  the  Englishman.  There  is  also  among  many  an  in 
clination  for  jewelry  which  is  not  one  of  our  prefer 
ences;  tie  pins  are  plentiful,  and  rings  are  common, 
although  some  moderation  is  introduced  in  the  fine 
and  delicate  watch  chains  which  are  the  fashion  in 
America.  Moreover  there  is  among  the  young  men 
about  town  a  tendency,  especially  with  regard  to  their 
evening  clothes,  to  have  them  made  in  an  ornate  style 
which  does  not  coincide  with  our  old  fashioned  ideas. 
When  all  this  is  said  however  the  fact  remains  that 
the  ordinary  man  of  affairs  in  America  dresses  with 
taste,  the  taste  of  good  material,  simple  cut,  albeit 
with  some  fastidiousness.  They  are  a  dressy  people 
the  Americans,  a  fact  not  unrelated  with  self  respect. 


Food,  Dress,  Drink  and  Taxicabs  15 

In  some  matters  they  are  more  particular  than 
Europeans.  When  I  came  out  to  America  I  was  in 
doubt  as  to  whether  to  bring  a  silk  hat — rapidly  dis 
appearing  in  London  except  for  use  on  formal  oc 
casions.  I  was  told  that  no  one  in  America  wore  a 
silk  hat.  As  a  matter  of  fact  within  a  month  of  my 
arrival  I  saw  more  silk  hats  on  Fifth  Avenue  than 
I  had  seen  in  London  in  the  course  of  a  year. 

I  am  not  an  expert  in  the  dress  of  women  but  I 
have  noticed  with  respectful  diffidence  the  variation 
with  customs  in  England.  American  women  like  the 
men  are  extremely  careful  in  their  dress,  careful  to  a 
point  of  elaborateness,  and  this  trait  is  not  confined 
to  any  one  class.  The  careful  harmonies  of  the 
fashionable  woman  in  society  functions  is  reflected 
in  the  trimness,  the  taste,  the  polish  of  the  thousands 
of  business  girls  who  go  into  New  York  to  the  offices 
each  day.  That  is  the  general  effect.  When  a  mere 
man  comes  to  details  on  this  matter  he  wallows  hope 
lessly.  But  I  have  observed  that  the  daytime  dresses 
are  rather  shorter  than  those  in  England,  displaying 
foot  and  ankle  and  sometimes  a  trifle  more.  Material 
is  thinner,  frequently  of  the  chiffon  type — georgette 
I  am  informed  is  the  correct  name,  and  more  of  the 
shoulder  and  neck  and  arm  is  shown — an  effect  of 
the  climate.  There  is  moreover  the  widest  variety  of 
styles  even  among  those  who  cannot  be  classed  as  rich, 
and  the  general  result  is  very  pleasing  to  the  male  eye. 


16  The  New  America 

Freedom  of  expression  is  carried  to  foot  wear.  In 
England  low  shoes  giving  a  woman's  foot  a  light 
appearance  are  in  general  wear.  With  American 
women  it  is  the  fashion  to  wear  boots  laced  up,  cover 
ing  above  the  ankle.  They  are  of  various  colours  and 
material,  of  leather,  cloth  and  suede  in  black,  brown, 
blue,  white  and  various  shades  of  grey.  They  hit  the 
eye  of  a  visitor.  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  these 
boots  look  heavier  and  in  some  cases  larger  than 
do  low  shoes.  But  what  is  a  mere  man's  opinion  in 
such  matters?  I  am  incapable  of  dealing  with  other 
attire  except  to  say  that  I  am  sensible  of  modes  dif 
ferent  from  those  across  the  water.  I  rarely  see  the 
blouse  and  skirt  so  generally  attractive  in  England 
and  instead  I  am  told — for  I  have  had  to  seek  advice 
on  this  technical  point — that  "one  piece  dresses"  are 
in  popular  use.  The  effect  is  good  when  the  eyes 
have  got  accustomed  to  the  change,  and  when  one  re 
members  that  this  is  not  England  but  another  nation. 
The  care  and  completeness  of  the  women's  dress  here 
is  another  evidence  of  that  freshness  and  intensity 
which  strives  to  get  as  much  out  of  life  as  possible. 
Withal  I  am  not  one  of  those  who  think  that  the 
elaborateness  of  dress  on  the  part  of  American 
women  is  the  characteristic  chiefly  to  be  marked  with 
regard  to  them.  But  that  is  another  story — to  be 
dealt  with  a  little  later  on. 

The  food  and  drink  of  America  are  peculiarly  na- 


Food,  Dress,  Drink  and  Taxicabs  17 

tional.  It  is  not  until  an  Englishman  has  been  here 
for  a  week  or  two  that  he  discovers  how  really  dif 
ferent  the  food  is  to  that  which  he  has  been  accus 
tomed.  Breakfast  is  almost  invariably  begun  by 
fruit  and  delicious  fruit  it  is  too,  oranges,  bananas, 
strawberries,  grape-fruit,  something  juicy  and  re 
freshing.  Then  there  follows  in  sequence  courses 
which  in  name  have  some  resemblance  to  the  old 
country's  fare  but  which  in  substance  are  different. 
There  are  various  kinds  of  cereals  of  course,  some 
of  them  with  fancy  names.  Fish  has  an  important 
place.  Among  the  varieties  of  fish  are  those  of  which 
the  average  Englishman  has  never  heard  the  name, 
"Blue  fish,"  "White  fish"  "Shad"— fish  from  the 
rivers,  and  fish  from  the  lakes  in  the  Middle  West, 
mixed  in  with  the  fish  of  English  names  and  bearing 
a  family  resemblance  to  what  we  get  in  England.  It 
is  when  you  come  to  the  eggs  and  bacon  that  you  get 
a  real  shock.  The  eggs  are  the  same  but  alas  for 
the  bacon.  I  am  sure  Americans  like  American  bacon 
best.  An  Englishman  on  this  point  must  regretfully 
part  company.  During  eighteen  months  in  this  coun 
try  I  have  met  scores  of  travelling  Englishmen,  many 
of  them  distinguished  in  their  various  walks  of  life, 
and  it  is  a  fact  worth  putting  down  that  rarely  has 
our  conversation  come  to  an  end  without  a  heart 
rending  word  about  American  bacon.  They  do  not 
sigh  for  English  lanes  these  men  of  the  world,  for  the 


18  The  New  America 

delights  of  London  or  even  for  the  reunion  with  old 
friends,  but  their  hearts  are  full  of  gloom  as  they 
talk  of  the  English  bacon  so  far  from  their  reach,  and 
try  to  be  polite  about  the  bacon  in  America.  It  is 
difficult  because  of  the  deceptiveness  of  those  little 
strips  which  with  their  thinness  give  an  appearance  of 
delicacy  but  which  in  the  mouth  make  one  think  how 
far  away  are  Yorkshire  and  Wiltshire.  America  is 
a  great  nation  but  it  has  not  yet  learned  much  about 
bacon.  Mr.  Raymond  Blathwayt  sat  with  me  in  a 
cheery  New  York  club  only  a  few  nights  ago  in  a 
circle  of  genial  Americans  and  held  them  in  thrall 
while  he  discoursed  on  the  merits  of  a  well  cooked 
Wiltshire  ham.  He  described  to  smiling  listeners  a 
slice  of  that  ham  properly  cooked,  how  it  required  no 
chewing,  how  it  was  full  of  flavour  and  melted  in  the 
mouth  like  chocolate.  I  was  much  moved.  What 
Englishman  would  not  be?  Even  our  American 
friends  were  stirred  by  this  modern  Charles  Lamb  and 
his  roast  pig.  All  the  same  I  believe  they  would 
prefer  American  bacon.  It  is  one  of  the  few  serious 
dividing  lines  between  the  two  nations.  Not  to  put 
too  fine  a  point  upon  it  these  delicate  looking  wafer- 
like  strips  are  to  an  Englishman  on  the  tough  side. 
Also  they  lack  flavour.  I  am  blunt  about  this.  The 
matter  is  not  one  to  be  trifled  with. 

Chicken  is  a  great  specialty  in  America.     It  is 


Food9  Dress,  Drink  and  Taxicabs  19 

comparatively  cheap,  well  cooked  in  a  score  of  ways, 
and  the  same  applies  to  turkey  and  other  poultry. 
Beef  as  it  is  cooked  and  cut  in  many  restaurants  and 
hotels  does  not  attract  an  Englishman  for  it  is  carved 
in  slices  which  are  enormously  thick  and  served  so 
underdone  as  to  remove  it  from  the  class  of  deli 
cacies.  No  lunch  or  dinner  is  complete  for  an  Ameri 
can  without  ices,  and  they  call  the  course  "ice  cream" 
in  full,  not  "ice"  as  on  the  other  side.  For  those  who 
like  ice  cream  there  is  no  better  in  the  world  and  it  is 
served  with  a  profusion  which  indicates  the  general 
taste.  The  extreme  sweetness  of  pastry,  cakes  and 
other  confections  in  America  is  very  remarkable  to 
a  European  and  even  the  chocolates  are  far  sweeter 
than  we  have  them. 

What  of  drink?  America  so  far  as  my  observa 
tion  goes  is  a  very  temperate  country,  many  of  the 
states  prohibiting  the  sale  of  liquor,  while  in  those 
that  do  not  there  is  an  absence  of  excessive  drinking, 
an  absence  indeed  of  regular  drinking,  which  is  bound 
to  impress  a  traveller.  One  need  not  put  it  all  down 
to  natural  virtue.  The  climate  so  dry  and  invigorat 
ing  has  a  lot  to  do  with  the  condition  of  things  in 
which  a  man  accustomed  to  a  moderate  glass  of  liquor 
in  western  Europe  finds  the  need  of  it  to  disappear 
when  he  lands  in  America.  The  moist  winds  that 
sweep  the  countries  across  the  Atlantic,  and  the  heavier 


20  The  New  America 

atmosphere,  somehow  give  alcohol  less  effect,  and  pro 
mote  a  desire  for  it  which  is  lessened  under  the  clear 
skies  of  America.  In  the  course  of  a  year  I  have 
travelled  through  nearly  all  of  the  principal  cities  in 
the  United  States  and  my  travels  have  taken  me  out 
at  all  hours  of  the  night  and  day  and  during  that  time 
I  do  not  think  the  drunken  men  I  have  seen  on  the 
streets  would  number  a  dozen.  Another  excellent 
variation  to  an  Englishman  is  the  absence  of  barmaids 
in  the  saloons,  all  the  liquor  being  sold  by  men. 

So  far  as  non-intoxicating  drink  is  concerned,  cof 
fee  is  the  stand-by  of  the  country,  and  it  is  made  ex 
cellently.  Tea,  alas  for  English  taste,  is  an  abstrac 
tion  to  the  ordinary  American.  They  know  it  by 
name  and  by  sight  and  some  even  drink  it,  but  as  a 
rule  it  is  a  thin  vapid  decoction  unworthy  of  the  name. 
Restaurants  and  hotels  have  something  they  label 
"English  Breakfast  Tea,"  which  is  supposed  to  pro 
vide  for  our  stronger  tastes,  but  it  is  only  a  substitute. 
I  have  found  a  method  of  meeting  the  emergency. 
It  is  to  demand  Ceylon  tea  and  to  insist  that  double 
the  usual  quantity  is  used  in  the  tea  pot.  They  mean 
well  about  tea,  the  Americans,  but  perhaps  they  re 
tain  a  prejudice  with  regard  to  that  little  affair  at 
Boston.  I  once  made  a  pathetic  plea  on  a  Washington 
train  to  a  waiter  for  strong  tea.  He  was  anxious  to 
oblige  me  but  his  attitude  of  mind  on  this  all  im 
portant  matter  was  eloquently  revealed  when  in  his 


Food,  Dress,  Drink  and  Taxicabs  21 

desire  to  meet  my  wishes  he  brought  me  a  jug  of 
moderately  warm  water  and  the  tea  canister  and  asked 
me  to  put  in  as  much  tea  as  I  liked  so  as  to  give  it  the 
proper  strength. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    WRITTEN   AND    SPOKEN    WORD 

ONE  of  the  staggering  discoveries  in  America  is  the 
occasional  comment  on  the  "English  accent"  of  Eng 
lishmen  with  its  suggestion  of  an  amiable  eccentricity 
on  the  part  of  a  foreign  people.  It  is  hard  for  a 
visitor  from  London  to  get  his  balance.  When  he 
does  so  and  makes  his  feeble  protest  he  is  shaken 
by  the  challenge  direct — about  the  mincing  intonation 
of  the  English,  their  lack  of  h's,  the  impression  of 
sing-song  in  their  speech.  I  was  present  at  a  popular 
comedy  in  New  York  recently  where  a  dialogue  on  the 
stage  between  a  young  American  doctor  and  an  Eng 
lish  friend  led  the  American  to  declare  with  a  fervour 
which  might  have  concealed  humour,  "If  you  wish  to 
hear  the  real  English  language  spoken  as  it  should 
be  with  purity  and  correctness  you  must  come  to 
America."  A  well  dressed  and  intelligent  audience 
applauded  this  with  what  struck  me  to  be  seriousness. 
Conceive  the  mental  situation  of  the  poor  Englishman 
who  has  realized  that  around  him  is  a  new  pronuncia 
tion  and  a  hurly  burly  of  fresh  phrases  all  of  which 

he  had  hitherto  regarded  as  a  local  variation  from 

22 


The  Written  and  Spoken  Word  23 

the  proper  and  accepted  English  he  had  brought  from 
the  other  side.  Taking  a  strong  hold  of  himself  the 
Englishman  may  make  a  stand  against  his  Ameri 
can  friends;  he  will  give  way  much  but  he 
must  and  will  persist  that  the  true  English  language  is 
in  possession  of  the  English  people.  And  this  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  some  of  the  less  educated  people  es 
pecially  in  London  drop  their  h's  in  pretty  much  the 
same  way  that  the  less  educated  do  in  New  York. 

Broadly  speaking  there  are  two  tendencies  with  re 
gard  to  the  English  language  in  America,  one  to 
wards  its  reinvigoration,  the  other  towards  its  dilu 
tion  and  corruption  and  the  difficulty  is  to  say  where 
one  tendency  unites  with  the  other.  The  measured 
speech  of  the  educated  American,  extracting  from 
words  and  phrases  the  full  savour  with  a  kind  of  salty 
tang,  is  a  powerful  new  instrument  for  both  wit  and 
wisdom,  but  who  can  tell  the  border  line  when, 
descending  through  a  hundred  shades,  it  reaches  at 
last  a  high  pitched  harshness  for  which  slowness  is 
no  compensation.  Then  there  are  the  phrases.  Show 
me  the  alert  Englishman  who  will  not  find  a  stimula 
tion  in  those  nuggety  word-groupings  which  are  the 
commonplaces  in  good  American  conversation.  They 
are  like  flashes  of  crystal.  They  come  from  all  kinds 
of  people, — who  are  brilliantly  innocent  of  enriching 
the  language.  But  here  again  there  is  a  descending 
scale  which  presently  touches  undoubtable  slang. 


24 


The  New  America 


Who  is  going  to  mark  the  limit?  Perhaps  there  is 
none,  only  a  slow  graduation  the  character  of  which 
alters  as  time  ripens  taste.  Let  me  give  a  little  list 
of  colloquial  expressions,  some  of  which  explain  them 
selves  and  all  of  which  are  interesting  as  examples  of 
a  language  in  transition. 


"Don't  be  fresh." 
"Rubber  neck." 
"Foxy  gink." 
"Get  wise  to  it." 
"To  jolly  you  along.' 
"Take  a  Brodie." 


"Shook  me  for  a  blonde." 
"Cut  it  out." 

"The  jinx  have  a  hunch 

on  me." 
"Turn  over,  you've  said 

a  pageful." 
"He's  a  bird  and  you  want 

to  watch  him  fly." 


"Don't  be  cheeky." 

"Sight  seer." 

"A  sly  person." 

"Ascertain  the  facts." 

"To  chaff  you." 

"Take  a  chance  (from 
Steve  Brodie  who  dived 
from  Brooklyn  bridge) . 

"Left  me  for  another." 

"Stop  that  nonsense;  get 
to  business." 

"Evil  spirits  haunt  me." 

"You've    talked    enough 

and  too  much." 
"He's   smart,   keep   your 

eye  on  him." 


It  may  be  slang  but  notice  how  the  English  transla 
tion  rather  limps  behind.  9f  course  it  is  the  figura- 
tiveness,  the  quick  pictorial  imagination,  which  helps 


The  Written  and  Spoken  Word  25 

the  formation  of  the  new  language.  All  the  same 
there  is  a  little  shock  for  the  Englishman  in  the 
mandatory  "Listen"  for  the  more  gracious  "Do  you 
know,"  or  "Excuse  me."  Besides  "Listen"  there  are 
"Say"  and  "Gee"  and  several  others.  They  can  be 
uttered  sweetly;  when  they  are  not,  well  then  the 
stranger  has  to  smile  and  suffer. 

The  written  word  in  America  follows  generally 
along  the  lines  of  the  spoken  word.  In  the  best  maga 
zines  and  reviews  and  in  the  more  intellectual  of  the 
books  one  finds  a  clearness,  a  correctness,  a  vigour, 
not  a  whit  behind  similar  work  in  England  and  in 
some  cases  so  excellent  as  to  be  a  model  to  English 
writers.  There  is  a  nervous  directness  in  the  best 
American  writing  which  is  truly  part  of  literature 
and  a  distinctive  emanation  from  the  American 
genius.  A  love  of  beauty  in  words  shows  up  re 
peatedly,  a  desire  to  get  the  core  out  of  language. 
Moreover  the  Americans,  in  a  kind  of  artistic  ex 
uberance,  are  not  afraid  to  use  words  as  we  some 
times  are  in  England.  Along  the  fagade  of  the  new 
post  office  building  in  New  York  there  runs  an  in 
scription  from  Herodotus.  "Neither  snow,  nor  rain, 
nor  heat,  nor  night  stays  these  couriers  from  the  swift 
completion  of  their  appointed  rounds."  Somehow 
this  inscription  adds  point  and  dignity  to  a  noble 
building.  Who  but  the  Americans  would  have 
placed  words  with  a  lilt  and  march  upon  a  teeming 


26  The  New  America 

bureau  of  practical  work.  They  use  words  in  un 
accustomed  ways  these  Americans  in  their  daily 
pursuits,  in  their  business  for  example.  Look  at  the 
American  advertisements,  against  those  in  Britain! 
I  was  walking  up  Broadway  near  twelve  o'clock  one 
night  and  came  to  a  halt  in  front  of  a  shop  across 
which  was  stretched  a  scroll  bearing  these  words, 
"Can  a  snake  cross  a  frozen  lake?"  I  read  it  twice 
to  know  if  my  eyesight  was  right  and  then  I  thought 
I  was  in  the  presence  of  one  of  those  tantalizing  puz 
zles  for  which  there  is  no  answer.  What  did  it 
mean?  Was  the  storekeeper  a  colossal  joker  who 
wished  to  bewilder  the  passing  crowds  just  for  the 
fun  of  the  thing?  I  went  up  and  looked  into  the 
store  and  found  the  explanation.  It  specialized  in 
an  encyclopedia  which  purported  to  answer  all  kinds 
of  questions.  "Can  a  snake  cross  a  frozen  lake?" 
was  one  of  the  puzzles  which  the  encyclopedia  eluci 
dated  for  the  curious. 

This  however  is  not  the  whole  of  the  picture,  for  in 
writing  as  well  as  in  speech  there  is  a  widespread 
range  of  what  to  an  Englishman  is  looseness,  occa 
sionally  slovenliness.  Americans  are  never  tired  of 
bursting  the  bonds  of  convention,  but  when  the  less 
disciplined  do  this  they  are  apt  to  emerge  on  to  a 
stage  where  freedom  though  delightful  has  its  dis 
advantages. 

The  leading  editorials  in  the  principal  papers  of 


The  Written  and  Spoken  Word  27 

America  are  generally  from  an  English  point  of  view 
well  written,  vivacious,  with  precision  and  taste.  The 
news  columns  on  the  other  hand  are  often  enough 
marked  with  redundancy,  and  a  certain  careless  haste. 
It  all  rises  from  that  intensive  desire  to  get  to  the 
heart  of  things  quickly,  to  solidify  thought  without 
much  regard  to  the  medium.  It  is  not  a  case  of  gram 
matical  inaccuracy  so  much  as  a  disregard  of  con 
struction,  an  indifference  to  the  briefest  and  sharpest 
way  of  conveying  meaning — unless  indeed  it  can  be 
done  by  the  short  cut  of  slang.  Formal  correctness 
really  doesn't  matter  so  long  as  the  general  meaning 
is  apparent,  that  is  the  impression  a  visitor  gets.  Of 
course  this  informality  sometimes  goes  with  bright 
ness,  occasionally  with  wit.  Whether  this  is  suffi 
cient  recompense  depends  on  the  temperament  and 
training  of  the  reader.  Nor  can  this  restiveness  in 
the  presence  of  arbitrary  rules  of  grammar  and  con 
struction  be  charged  solely  against  the  newspapers. 
I  have  seen  in  the  streets  public  notices  issued  by  the 
authorities,  in  which  the  lack  of  grammar  stared  to 
Heaven. 

However  a  language  must  be  looked  upon  as  a 
whole  and  the  American  tongue  written  or  spoken 
with  its  alteration  from  the  English  of  England  is  a 
potent  and  penetrating  instrument,  rich  in  new  vibra 
tions,  full  of  joy  as  well  as  shocks  for  the  unsuspect 
ing  visitor.  The  many  created  words  are  but  another 


28  The  New  America 

evidence  of  a  trenchant  originality.  I  once  cited 
some  of  them  as  well  as  changes  I  have  indicated  to 
a  good  friend  of  mine,  a  dignitary  of  the  Episcopal 
church.  He  was  sensitive.  "Our  English  may  be 
a  little  changed,"  he  said,  "but  it  is  an  alteration 
vastly  for  the  better.  You  are  lagging  far  behind. 
Good  Heavens,  why  you  still  spell  parlour  with  a 
CU'."  I  quailed  under  his  air  of  pride  and  contempt. 
I  had  not  the  courage  to  point  out  the  thousand  simi 
lar  illogicalities  which  still  remain  in  the  English 
language  as  it  is  spoken  in  America.  I  think  he 
would  have  trampled  on  me  if  I  had. 


CHAPTER  IV 

HUSTLE   AND   HUMOUR 

ONE  of  the  hasty  judgments  which  a  visiting  English 
man  is  likely  to  formulate  in  the  first  month  or  two 
of  his  residence  in  the  United  States  is  that  the  reputa 
tion  of  America  for  whirl-wind  energy  and  an  ever 
present  poignancy  of  humour  is  a  fallacy.  He  moder 
ates  this  opinion  a  little  later  on,  but  there  continues 
to  remain  with  him  the  conviction  that  Europeans 
have  an  entirely  wrong  idea  of  the  temperament  of 
Americans  with  regard  to  their  quality  of  action  and 
their  humour  and  wit.  One  hears  so  much  in  Europe 
of  the  nervous  tension  of  the  Americans,  of  their 
electric  energy  in  business  and  pleasure  that  there 
comes  a  discovery  which  is  in  the  nature  of  a  shock. 
Conceive  the  disillusionment  among  people  in  Eng 
land  when  told  that  the  New  York  crowds  on  the 
sidewalks,  in  the  subways,  in  both  business  and  resi 
dential  sections,  walk  in  a  more  leisurely  way  than 
do  similar  crowds  in  London.  It  is  one  of  the 
astounding  things  to  an  Englishman  here.  He  notes 
the  slowness  in  a  hundred  directions,  the  carefully 

measured  activity  of  the  elevator  men,  railway  of- 

29 


30  The  New  America 

ficials,  the  salesmen  in  the  shops.  Nobody  is  in  any 
hurry.  New  York  leads  the  way  in  this  calm  de 
tached  disregard  of  time  but  New  York  does  not  stand 
alone.  At  Chicago,  Detroit,  Cleveland,  I  have 
stopped  in  the  best  hotels  and  the  slowness  of  the 
service  of  the  waiters,  of  the  attendants  and  again  of 
the  railway  men  roused  a  feeling  of  disappointment 
in  one  who  expected  a  new-world  dashing  rapidity. 
Taxicabs  are  the  only  things  that  go  really  fast. 
Time  is  the  cheapest  commodity  in  America.  Is  it 
heresy  to  say  that  I  found  indications  of  the  same 
leisureliness  in  some  distinguished  walks  of  life? 
If  it  is  I  would  add  that  I  found  the  atmosphere 
pleasant.  Withal,  the  daily  work  gets  itself  accom 
plished,  new  big  original  achievements  are  carried 
through  in  a  score  of  industries,  and  there  is  an  out 
put  which  is  large  compared  to  that  of  similar  in 
dustries  across  the  Atlantic.  Why  this  apparent  con 
tradiction?  There  is  probably  more  than  one  ex 
planation  for  it.  The  root  fact  is  that  America  has 
resources  and  natural  wealth  which  enables  its  popu 
lation  to  secure  a  livelihood  with  less  effort  than  the 
crowded  populations  in  the  severe  state  of  competi 
tion  of  the  old  countries.  No  wonder  there  is  a  con 
stant  stream  of  immigration.  It  would  be  even 
larger  if  the  poor  people  in  Europe  knew  the  ad 
vantages  in  America  and  its  opportunities.  There  are 
some  popular  restaurants  in  New  York  correspond- 


Hustle  and  Humour  31 

ing  with  our  light  refreshment  houses  in  London,  and 
whereas  in  London  the  waitresses  working  long  hours 
may  make  fifteen  shillings  a  week  the  waitresses  in 
these  American  restaurants  (I  am  speaking  now  of 
New  York)  get  three  good  meals  a  day  and  earn  in 
wages  and  tips  from  eighteen  to  twenty  dollars — 
between  three  pounds  ten  shillings  and  four  pounds 
a  week  for  six  days'  work,  seven  and  a  half  hours  a 
day.  This  may  be  a  little  exceptional  but  it  certainly 
is  an  indication.  In  New  York  City  it  is  difficult  to 
get  manual  labourers  except  negroes  or  immigrants 
from  the  southern  states  of  Europe.  There  are  so 
many  things  people  can  do  besides  work  with  their 
hands  in  America.  Of  course  there  are  poor  people, 
poor  for  a  variety  of  reasons  but  speaking  generally 
it  is  far  easier  to  secure  a  comfortable  material  exist 
ence  than  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  This  is 
in  spite  of  the  high  cost  of  living,  which  may  even 
be  double  and  then  leave  a  substantial  margin. 

The  theory  of  American  hustle  arises  not  from 
actual  daily  swiftness  in  which  the  British  are  not 
outpaced,  but  in  the  new  state  of  mind,  the  willingness 
and  indeed  the  ardency  to  try  new  methods,  to  ex 
periment  with  new  ideas.  Not  only  in  one  class  but 
in  all  classes  one  finds  readiness  to  discover  a  more 
effective  method  of  handling  business,  to  ascertain 
novelties  not  only  in  inventions  but  in  methods.  The 
result  is  that  in  some  directions  wonderful  effects  in 


32  The  New  America 

efficiency  are  secured.  In  England  old  traditions  are 
too  rigidly  adhered  to,  especially  in  matters  of  busi 
ness,  and  the  consequence  is  that  the  people  work 
harder  and  sometimes  achieve  less.  Of  course  there 
has  to  be  borne  in  mind  also  the  essential  consideration 
that  America  is  a  country  both  new  and  vast,  with 
potentialities  only  on  the  fringe  of  development,  hav 
ing  within  its  boundaries  uncountable  riches  yet  to 
be  produced  by  the  energy  and  ingenuity  of  its  in 
habitants.  For  the  industrious,  material  life  is  easier. 
It  is  now,  no  less  than  in  years  gone  by,  the  land  of 
opportunity.  Meanwhile  its  progressing  development 
places  prosperity  within  the  hands  of  many  classes. 
Perhaps  this  is  why  New  York,  teeming  with  ideas, 
shows  no  signs  of  real  hurry. 

It  is  a  legend,  or  perhaps  it  would  be  more  cor 
rect  to  say  a  religious  article  of  faith,  with  Ameri 
cans  that  the  English,  to  whose  many  qualities  they 
are  not  unwilling  to  pay  tribute,  do  not  possess  a 
sense  of  humour.  It  is  not  a  matter  to  be  argued 
about.  The  slow  comprehension  of  the  English  in 
funny  matters  is  a  text.  I  have  heard  it  referred  to 
not  only  in  private  conversation  but  repeatedly  on  the 
stage  and  more  than  once  at  public  dinners,  all  the 
references  being  quite  good  humoured  and  without 
offence  but  all  very  downright  and  made  with  sin 
cerity.  Amusing  stories  are  frequently  told  in  sup 
port.  A  typical  one  is  said  to  come  from  Mr.  Nat 


Hustle  and  Humour  33 

Goodwin,  the  actor,  who  during  his  stay  in  London 
told  an  English  friend  of  his  experiences  with  a 
cigar  salesman.  In  recommending  a  special  brand 
of  cigars  the  salesman  said  the  purchaser  of  five  hun 
dred  cigars  received  a  valuable  leather  wallet,  the 
purchaser  of  a  thousand  got  a  watch,  and  the  man 
who  took  five  thousand  received  a  grand  piano.  The 
actor's  reply  to  the  cigar  salesman  was,  "If  I  smoke 
five  thousand  of  your  cigars  it  wouldn't  be  a  grand 
piano  that  I  should  want  but  a  harp."  Nat  Good 
win  related  this  instance  of  his  repartee  to  his  Eng 
lish  friend  who  received  it  with  a  polite  smile.  It 
was  the  next  day  that  the  Englishman  sought  out  Nat 
Goodwin,  shook  him  warmly  by  the  hand  and  said, 
"You  know  I  only  got  the  meaning  of  that  joke  last 
night  in  bed.  I  could  hardly  sleep  for  laughing. 
Of  course  what  you  meant  was  that  travelling  round 
the  country  as  you  do  as  an  actor  you  couldn't  carry 
the  grand  piano  with  you,  whereas  you  could  take  a 
harp  along  quite  easily." 

I  think  it  may  be  said  that  English  lack  of  humour 
provides  the  same  staple  source  of  merriment  to  the 
Americans  that  the  mother-in-law  used  to  provide  in 
funny  papers  and  on  the  music-hall  stage  in  England. 
I  know  one  Englishman  who  listened  to  a  chaffing 
after-dinner  speech  in  New  York  and  became  restive. 
Presently  he  said,  "I  want  to  get  up  and  make  a 
speech."  I  asked  him  his  reason.  He  said,  "I  want 


34  The  New  America 

to  explain  that  there  is  no  lack  of  courtesy  in  English 
men  when  they  don't  laugh  at  American  jokes.  I 
personally  have  sometimes  tried  for  as  long  as  twenty 
minutes  to  laugh  at  an  American  joke.  I  want  to 
explain  that  so  as  to  show  there  is  no  ill  feeling." 
I  do  not  think  this  was  justifiable  comment  on  the 
general  situation  because  so  far  as  my  experience 
goes,  and  I  have  cultivated  an  amateur  interest  in 
the  matter,  it  is  not  hard  to  understand  or  appreciate 
American  humour.  Nor  do  I  agree  with  many  visit 
ing  Englishmen  who  say  that  Americans  are  really  in 
essence  devoid  of  humour.  These  critics  in  their  dis 
appointment  generalize  from  two  or  three  individual 
experiences.  It  is  true  that  an  Englishman's  vanity 
suffers  when  he  finds  that  what  he  believes  to  be  his 
humorous  asides,  his  witty  inflexions,  and  some 
times  even  the  pith  of  his  best  narratives  leave  Ameri 
cans  cold,  leave  them,  alas,  not  even  inquisitive — 
but  this  arises  from  the  fact  that  American  humour 
is  developed  along  different  lines,  and  also  that  both 
nations  include  dull  people.  The  latter  fact  one 
may  put  aside  for  the  moment.  Among  those  whom 
nature  has  not  forgotten  to  endow  properly  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic  there  are  differences  with  regard 
to  humour  although  frequently  they  meet  on  common 
ground.  If  I  were  asked  to  specify  as  definitely  as 
possible  the  difference  between  the  humour  of  America 
and  England  I  should  say  that  American  humour 


Hustle  and  Humour  35 

was  the  more  direct  and  English  humour  the  more 
allusive.  It  is  the  situation  which  appeals  to  the 
American,  it  is  the  handling  of  the  situation  which 
arouses  the  smile  in  an  Englishman.  The  American 
moreover  is  not  afraid  of  humour  and  we  English  are 
a  little  timorous  about  it.  Humour  is  not  in  such 
general  currency  in  England.  To  the  extent  that  with 
us  it  has  to  have  a  sharper  point,  to  be  well  tempered, 
may  be  a  sign  that  we  are  indeed  a  duller  people. 
On  the  other  hand  it  makes  for  an  agreeable  variety 
of  humour,  not  essentially  subtle,  and  yet  approaching 
subtlety.  It  is  the  flavour  of  the  humour  which  the 
English  like  to  turn  over  on  their  tongue.  We  are 
in  fact  a  gravely  humorous  people.  With  the  Amer 
ican  there  are  no  dilatory  measures.  They  have  a 
crispness,  and  sharp  percussion,  stimulating  and  re 
freshing.  While  humour  is  better  understood  and 
more  frequently  used  among  ordinary  citizens  in 
America  it  does  not  seem  to  me  that  humour  is  nearly 
so  powerful  a  public  weapon  as  it  is  in  England. 
All  our  leading  statesmen  find  it  a  tremendous  ally 
not  only  in  the  House  of  Commons  but  on  the  public 
platforms.  Mr.  Balfour  is  one  of  our  subtlest  hu 
mourists.  Mr.  Asquith  brings  to  bear  on  his  op 
ponents  from  time  to  time  a  pawky  allusiveness  which 
is  very  penetrating.  Mr.  Lloyd  George  sparkles  in 
his  fiercest  speeches.  Mr.  Winston  Churchill  culti 
vates  a  mordant  turn  of  phrase  which  is  particularly 


36  The  New  America 

exhilarating.     I  have  not  noticed  a  similar  use  of 
humour  in  America. 

There  are  thus  two  brands  of  humour,  the  Ameri 
can  and  the  English  and  if  you  are  an  American  you 
naturally  prefer  the  product  of  the  United  States. 
Mark  Twain,  0.  Henry,  and  other  witty  writers  are 
read  with  avidity  in  Britain.  I  have  an  impression 
that  writers  like  W.  W.  Jacobs,  an  unfailing  delight 
to  the  English  humorous  mind,  would  not  be  re 
garded  in  the  United  States  as  being  uproariously 
funny.  From  these  facts  one  may  draw  two  entirely 
different  sets  of  conclusions.  It  depends  on  which 
side  of  the  Atlantic  one  resides. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    AMERICAN   WOMAN 

AMERICAN  women  are  an  acute  problem  for  an  Eng 
lishman,  but  they  are  a  problem  which  it  is  a  delight 
to  solve,  even  though  the  process  is  one  which  is  both 
prolonged  and  intricate.  It  must  be  very  hard  for  a 
bachelor  from  the  other  side,  whatever  prejudices  and 
affections  he  brings  across,  to  keep  from  trying  to 
marry  an  American  girl.  Resistance  in  the  old  coun 
try  calls  for  delicacy  and  vigilance,  but  in  the  United 
States  it  means  constant  and  strenuous  labour.  The 
exasperating  factor  is  that  an  Englishman  will  note 
what  to  him  are  deficiencies  in  the  American  woman, 
deficiencies  which  time  does  not  wipe  out  nor  ameli 
orate.  The  soft  speech  of  his  own  women,  their  un 
conscious  graciousness,  their  silent  and  enduring  pas 
sion  for  all  home  things,  are  but  some  of  those  al 
most  indefinable  qualities  which  are  woven  into  the 
fabric  of  the  English  race.  There  is  not  the  same 
atmosphere  with  American  women,  who  have  an  at 
mosphere  of  their  own.  One  lives  in  a  different 
medium  in  America  and  there  are  additions  and 

subtractions. 

37 


38  The  New  America 

The  companionship  of  the  American  women  is 
such  as  to  make  them  a  magnet.  They  touch  fibres 
which  before  have  been  undisturbed.  They  have  a 
'I  volition  which  drives  them  into  notice,  regard,  and, 
ofttimes,  affection.  There  is  in  fact  something  dyna 
mic  about  the  attractions  of  American  women.  That 
does  not  mean  they  please  the  taste  of  a  visitor  in 
every  way  at  the  start.  There  are  in  the  United 
States  women  as  gracious  and  as  beautiful  as  any 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic,  but  speaking  gen 
erally  they  miss  here  and  there  an  attribute  which 
an  Englishman  appreciates.  First  of  all  there  is 
the  accent  which  to  an  Englishman's  ears  is  not  so 
womanlike  as  the  lower  tone  and  softer  appeal  of  an 
[Englishwoman's  voice.  Many  of  them  too  are  more 
fdecided,  with  a  little  more  of  that  assertiveness  which 
>erhaps  comes  from  independence.  The  English- 
roman  has  an  intense  devotion  to  domestic  affairs 
and  a  family,  and  though  this  is  not  missing  in 
America  it  is  sometimes  shaded  down  a  little  by  an 
Interest  in  outside  affairs,  in  private  work,  in  public 
[activities,  possibly  in  sheer  amusement — and  this 
makes  her  a  trifle  harder,  perhaps  more  practical  but 
now  and  again  not  quite  so  lovable,  at  least  to  stran 
gers  who  have  not  yet  acquired  the  taste. 

American  women  away  from  the  damp  atmos 
phere  of  western  Europe  have  not  the  bright  com 
plexions  of  their  trans-Atlantic  cousins,  but  they 


The  American  Woman  39 

more  than  make  up  for  this  by  the  vivacity  of  their 
eyes  and  the  charm  of  their  hair.  Whether  it  is  the 
manner  of  their  dress,  or  the  natural  effect  of  climate 
or  race,  they  seem  to  have  a  slimness  and  straight- 
ness  of  figure  compared  with  Europeans.  It  is  the 
fashion,  too,  I  think.  All  the  same  one's  eyes  have 
to  become  accustomed  to  it  when  one  is  fresh  from 
Europe.  They  walk  well,  the  American  women,  up 
rightly,  with  dignity  and  grace  though  not  with  the 
swinging  alertness,  and  resilience  of,  say,  the  Scottish 
girls.  The  dress  of  the  American  women  is  a  mat 
ter  of  great  care,  even  of  elaborateness,  and  every 
part  of  her  from  her  light  lace-like  collar  to  her 
spic-and-span  boots  is  groomed  to  a  nicety.  A  cul 
tured  American  woman  in  evening  dress  is  a  delight 
to  the  eye.  There  is,  however,  discernible  here  and 
there  a  tendency  to  overdress,  a  disregard  for  the 
charm  in  simplicity  as  against  the  effect  of  ornateness. 
From  time  to  time  one  meets  women  who  are  ob 
viously  too  expensively  dressed  for  what  an  English 
man  would  regard  as  taste.  These  are  the  excep 
tions,  and  are  the  inevitable  development  of  the 
thoughtful  care  and  precision  in  matters  of  apparel 
which  is  an  inherent  part  of  the  American  woman's 
being. 

One  of  the  charms  of  the  best  American  woman 
is  her  vivid  interest  in  those  affairs  of  life  in  which 
an  ordinarily  well-read  man  finds  material  for  thought 


40  The  New  America 

and  activity.  Right  down  from  the  richer  circles  to 
the  woman  in  what  may  be  called  the  lower  middle 
class,  there  is  a  pulsing  curiosity  about  life,  a  desire 
to  know  and  understand,  a  courage  which  flinches 
from  no  unpleasant  knowledge,  indeed  asks  for  it, 
and  withal  a  humour  which  if  a  stranger  may  hazard 
an  opinion  is  even  more  noticeable  than  in  the  Ameri 
can  men.  The  American  woman  reads  the  news 
papers  fervently.  She  reads  books  of  all  kinds,  to 
an  extent  which  I  should  guess  is  unequalled  in  any 
other  part  of  the  world.  It  is  the  fashion  to  say  that 
the  American  woman  is  spoiled  by  her  husband  and 
her  men-folk  in  general.  That  is  probably  true  with 
regard  to  certain  circles  in  the  wealthier  classes  where 
indulgence  is  carried  to  a  point  which  makes  not  only 
for  selfishness  but  also  for  smart  emptiness,  or  sheer 
stupidity.  But  it  is  a  libel  to  apply  the  verdict  gen 
erally  to  American  women.  By  virtue  of  a  camara 
derie,  a  keenness  of  perception,  and  independence  of 
outlook  which  arises  partly  from  the  general  condi 
tions  of  the  country,  the  American  woman  is  a  live 
and  sparkling  companion  for  an  intelligent  man. 
Perhaps  it  is  this  very  fact  that  leads  in  some  cases 
to  her  being  spoiled. 

L  One  of  the  fascinating  things  about  a  typical  Ameri 
can  woman  is  her  truly  romantic  temperament.  She 
is  not  as  a  rule  sentimental  for  the  sake  of  gambling 
in  so-called  love  as  a  pastime.  She  loves  attention 


The  American  Woman  41 

(what  woman  does  not?),  but  she  is  not  prepared  to 
pay  for  it  in  make-believe  currency,  in  soft  glances, 
in  sugary  notes,  in  sweet  triflings,  which  are  the  be 
ginning  and  end  of  the  game.  She  does  not  respond 
easily  or  quickly  but  when  she  does  all  of  her  feel 
ings  are  engaged,  and  there  is  no  turning  back.  She 
expects  devotion  and  will  respond  with  self-sacrifice 
to  the  limit.  The  uncompromising  directness  of  the 
American  temperament  comes  in  here.  If  she  loves  ^ 
a  man  she  wishes  to  marry  him  and  to  marry  him  / 
quickly  and  no  obstacle  of  convention  is  too  great, 
for  her  to  overcome.  She  is  contemptuous  of  diffi 
culties  when  she  is  really  roused.  She  is  thus  just 
such  a  woman  as  the  poets  and  the  story  writers  de 
scribe  for  their  livelihood.  Some  of  these  romantic 
writers  would  be  disturbed  at  meeting  in  the  flesh  so 
downright  and  sincere  an  example  of  womanhood. 
They  would  certainly  meet  her  in  America.  Not 
that  this  uncompromising  attitude  towards  one  of  the 
principal  phases  of  life  is  without  its  objections. 
The  ease  with  which  marriages  can  be  legally  carried 
through  in  America  is  a  discovery  for  visitors  who 
are  accustomed  to  restraints  and  delays  in  England, 
to  retarding  influences  which  have  their  value  in  a 
certain  publicity  and  in  the  time  for  reflection  which 
they  enforce.  The  nature  of  the  American  women  f 
must  produce  supremely  happy  marriages,  but  in 
conjunction  with  the  facilities  for  marriage  it  must 


42  The  New  America 

also  at  times  be  responsible  for  very  unhappy  results. 
This  is  to  some  extent  corrected  by  the  comparatively 
easy  way  by  which  in  some  of  the  states  divorces  can 
be  obtained.  It  is  futile  for  an  Englishman  who  has 
lived  his  life  in  the  atmosphere  of  his  own  people  with 
their  own  racial  tendencies  and  environment  to  ap 
praise  in  any  way  the  respective  position  of  the  sexes 
in  the  two  countries.  It  is  probable  that  while  greater 
heights  of  happiness  are  sometimes  obtained  there 
are  also  some  extensive  valleys  of  noncontent. 

The  prevalent  American  unexpectedness  is  to  be 
found  in  women  as  well  as  in  men.  I  remember  one 
elderly  lady,  devoted  mother  of  a  charming  family,  to 
whom  in  an  unguarded  moment  I  related  an  incident 
of  American  life  which  to  me  had  a  humorous  touch. 
I  told  of  how  I  had  heard  in  a  city  of  the  Middle  West 
with  which  she  was  acquainted,  of  two  editors  who 
quarrelled  not  merely  in  the  columns  of  their  papers 
but  also  in  their  personal  activities,  and  how  the 
quarrel  reached  a  climax  when  one  editor  drew  a 
revolver  in  the  street  and  shot  the  other  dead.  I 
described  how  an  American  friend  had  given  me  the 
incident  and  had  related  that  the  bullet  which  killed 
the  editor  went  through  him  and  killed  another  man 
behind,  and  how  I  said  an  appropriate  word  of  sur 
prise  and  horror,  which  was  replied  to  by  a  reas 
surance  on  the  part  of  my  American  friend.  "The 
assailant  didn't  escape,"  he  said.  "It  was  too  ter- 


The  American  Woman  43 

rible  an  affair.  He  had  to  pay  for  it.  He  got  a 
year's  imprisonment."  This  to  an  Englishman,  used 
to  trials  where  there  is  rarely  anything  but  swift  ex 
ecution  for  murderers,  whatever  the  provocation,  was 
a  climax  which  was  irresistible.  I  told  the  tale  to 
the  American  mother,  a  tender,  good  woman,  with  a 
sense  of  humour  and  to  my  amazement  she  said 
calmly,  "Yes,  I  heard  of  the  case  and  the  dead  man 
deserved  all  he  got.  A  year's  imprisonment  was  far 
too  much  for  the  man  who  killed  him."  That  is  only 
a  small  and  incidental  instance  of  the  way  an  English 
man  is  unbalanced  by  new  discoveries  with  regard  to 
mental  attitudes. 

One  finds  among  the  American  women  a  constant 
striving  for  a  wider,  higher  experience  of  life,  and 
by  this  I  do  not  mean  the  ambitions  of  those  who 
seek  an  outlet  for  energy  or  an  opportunity  for  public 
notice  in  politics  or  social  work  of  an  uplift  kind. 
I  mean  a  struggle  towards  the  messages  to  be  derived 
from  books,  from  music,  from  history,  from  the 
knowledge  of  men  and  women.  I  was  in  a  city  in 
the  Middle  West  where  there  was  a  gathering  of  scores 
of  young  women,  typists,  school  teachers,  and  others 
who  had  contributed  from  their  earnings  to  provide 
the  fee  for  a  lecture  on  some  special  phase  of  litera 
ture  by  an  author  from  Europe.  They  filled  me  with 
interest  and  appreciation  and  their  private  discus 
sions  afterwards  showed  them  to  be  young  women  of 


44  The  New  America 

judgment  as  well  as  aspiration.  The  Chautauqua 
Movement  with  its  systematic  efforts  through  a  period 
of  months,  over  a  great  stretch  of  country,  with  its 
lectures  attended  by  hundreds  of  thousands  of  en 
thusiasts  carries  on  the  story.  There  is  an  avidity  in 
the  American  woman  for  the  best  things  of  life.  They 
get  many  of  them  too.  There  is  vanity  and  selfish 
ness  to  be  found  among  some  of  those  who  have  been 
pampered  by  fortune.  But  there  is  no  Englishman 
who  will  remember  these  with  more  than  a  smile  and 
a  shrug  of  the  shoulder,  while  there  will  remain  to  him 
throughout  the  years,  wherever  he  may  travel,  the 
undimmed  and  fragrant  memory  of  other  American 
women,  gentle  and  devoted,  whose  unselfishness,  com 
radeship  and  sweet  understanding  will  always  remain 
a  treasure  and  an  inspiration. 


CHAPTER  VI 

WHAT   AMERICAN    PUBLIC    MEN   ARE    REALLY    LIKE 

ONE  has  to  adjust  mental  frontiers  in  nothing  more 
than  in  meeting  and  studying  America's  foremost 
citizens.  They  have  the  blessed  quality  of  unex 
pectedness.  They  are  unfettered.  They  are  men  of 
juice.  From  an  old  fashioned  standpoint  it  might  be 
made  a  matter  of  criticism  by  an  Englishman  that 
some  of  them  lack  restraint,  do  not  cultivate  the 
dignity  which  sometimes  goes  with  culture.  But  an 
English  observer  on  the  spot  is  forced  to  the  retort 
that  on  the  other  hand  there  is  no  opportunity  in 
America  for  the  cloak  of  dignity  to  hide  stupidness, 
that  in  the  absence  of  caste  privileges  the  inefficient 
have  no  cover.  They  stand  or  fall  by  their  achieve 
ments  and  their  personality.  It  is  true  they  miss  here 
and  there  some  of  the  soft  shades — but  be  it  remem 
bered  that  in  the  humanities  America  is  a  stark  nation. 
The  first  notability  that  I  met  in  America  was 
Colonel  House,  the  friend  of  President  Wilson,  a 
private  and  unofficial  ambassador  to  foreign  states,  a 
devoted  worker  for  his  country,  one  who  shrinks  pain 
fully  from  publicity,  a  man  who  persistently  refuses 

45 


46  The  New  America 

office,  and  is  unknown  to  public  platforms,  and  yet 
one  of  the  most  powerful  men  in  America.  Here  at 
least  was  a  good  study  to  begin  with.  Colonel  House 
has  been  called  the  man  of  mystery.  To  talk  to  him 
at  all  was  regarded  as  an  achievement.  To  get  at 
any  of  his  private  views  an  impossibility.  He  was  the 
big  silent  man  of  the  United  States.  I  happened  to 
know  where  he  lived  in  New  York  owing  to  an  intro 
duction  to  him,  or  I  would  have  had  some  difficulty 
in  putting  myself  in  touch.  There  was  no  reference 
to  him  in  the  telephone  book.  Politicians  shook  their 
heads  at  any  idea  of  visiting  him.  I  had  heard  con 
versations  in  drawing  rooms  about  Colonel  House, 
his  abnormal  seclusion,  and  there  were  always  guesses 
as  to  the  sources  of  his  personal  power. 

When  I  saw  him  first  I  did  not  sense  him  as  a  man 
of  power.  I  doubt  if  any  ordinary  person  would. 
I  found  a  man  in  the  fifties,  of  medium  height  with 
thoughtful  face,  gracious  manners,  and  soft  voice. 
He  is  a  picture  of  an  unobtrusive  thoroughbred 
American.  He  is  unostentation  itself,  and  withal  he 
carries  a  sincere  and  simple  courtesy.  He  makes  one 
at  home  and  talks  like  a  friend,  talks  not  too  much 
nor  yet  too  little,  just  frankly  and  pleasantly,  and  it 
is  impossible  to  imagine  him  the  popularly  supposed 
"man  of  mystery."  It  is  in  truth  a  little  hard  to 
imagine  him  the  force  in  world  politics  he  really  is. 
Gentleness  radiates  from  him.  Presently,  however,  it 


What  American  Public  Men  are  Really  Like     47 

breaks  on  one  that  those  sympathetic  eyes  are  very 
straight  and  for  all  their  kindness  are  extracting  sub 
stance  from  the  visitor.  One  remembers  with  sud 
den  relevance  that  this  unviolent  man  with  the  soft 
voice  is  as  swift  and  accurate  a  revolver  shot  as  ever 
came  out  of  Texas.  There  is  a  clue  in  that.  One 
of  the  qualities  of  Colonel  House  is  an  almost  unfail 
ing  appraisement  of  men.  He  knows  whom  to  trust, 
and  more  important  still  he  knows  whom  not  to  trust, 
and  he  never  says  anything  about  either  discovery. 

Why  has  Colonel  House  not  accepted  office,  why 
has  he  refused  dignities,  position,  and  profit?  The 
answer  to  that  I  should  think  he  would  never  tell  in 
words.  I  can  but  make  a  guess  by  means  of  those 
glimpses  of  the  man  which  have  come  to  me  as  a 
visitor.  With  a  passion  to  serve  his  country  goes  a 
dislike  for  public  acclaim,  a  temperamental  aversion 
from  clamour.  He  dislikes  noise,  distrusts  it.  He 
has  vision  and  is  uplifted  by  the  knowledge  of  his 
silent  services.  To  achieve  is  his  reward.  He  does 
not  in  the  least  mind  being  misunderstood. 

His  qualities  include  that  telling  gift  of  insight 
not  merely  to  the  kernel  of  a  controversy  but  to  the 
motives  that  move  clever  men.  Of  intimate  friends 
I  should  think  he  makes  but  few  but  to  those  few  he 
gives  a  depth  of  affection  and  loyalty  which  can 
never  be  plumbed  or  exhausted.  Colonel  House  is  a 
man  to  know. 


48  The  New  America 

Let  me  give  an  impression  of  another  famous  Amer 
ican,  Mr.  Roosevelt.  I  went  down  to  see  the  ex-Presi 
dent  at  his  residence  in  Oyster  Bay  with  but  a  word 
of  introduction  from  a  newspaper  man.  His  house 
away  in  the  country  stands  in  grounds  which,  in  keep 
ing  with  American  custom,  are  unshielded  from  the 
road  by  any  hedges  or  shrubs.  I  had  never  seen 
Colonel  Roosevelt  and  he  knew  me  not  at  all.  After 
I  had  knocked  at  the  door  for  a  minute  it  was  sud 
denly  opened  by  a  thick-set  burly  man  in  a  tweed  coat 
and  knickerbockers.  His  grey  stockings  concealed 
huge  calves  and  he  wore  a  pair  of  heavy  country 
boots.  It  was  Mr.  Roosevelt  himself.  There  was 
genial  inquiry  on  his  face  as  if  he  were  used  to  strange 
callers.  I  told  him  my  name  and  that  I  was  a  writer 
from  England.  "Come  in,"  he  said  cheerfully,  "but 
I  hope  you  are  not  going  to  ask  me  to  say  anything 
for  publication."  "No,  I  have  just  come  down  to  in 
troduce  myself."  I  might  have  added  had  I  been 
fully  truthful  that  I  had  also  come  to  see  what  manner 
of  man  was  the  Colonel  Roosevelt  of  whom  I  had 
heard  so  much.  "Come  right  in,"  he  said  cordially, 
and  as  I  stepped  into  the  hall  he  said,  "Here,  let  me 
help  you  off  with  your  overcoat."  He  was  beaming. 
If  ever  a  stranger  had  a  warmer  welcome  I  should  like 
to  know  when  or  where.  He  took  me  into  his  study 
where  there  was  a  roaring  fire  (the  temperature  out 
side  being  near  zero),  introduced  me  to  a  friend  of 


What  American  Public  Men  are  Really  Like     49 

his,  placed  me  at  a  comfortable  distance  from  the  fire, 
threw  himself  into  a  rocking  chair  half  a  dozen  feet 
away,  and  began  to  answer  questions  and  to  ask  them 
with  rapidity,  wit,  and  comprehension.  It  was  be 
fore  America  entered  the  war  and  he  spoke  with  re 
markable  freedom  of  various  countries,  of  America 
herself  and — I  tread  a  little  timidly  here — of  Ameri 
can  statesmen  in  office.  He  is  an  artist  with  words, 
Mr.  Roosevelt,  though  I  suspect  he  is  not  greatly 
troubled  whether  he  is  or  not.  Some  of  his  phrases 
had  punch  in  them,  many  had  a  piercing  humour,  and 
even  his  asides  were  rich  with  interest.  I  suppose 
one  might  call  him  loquacious,  but  whereas  some  peo 
ple  of  this  kind  are  merely  bursting  with  words  he 
was  bursting  with  thoughts.  Be  it  said  that  Mr. 
Roosevelt  in  such  circumstances  is  not  as  is  commonly 
reputed,  one  who  wants  to  talk  all  the  time;  he  is  a 
fine  listener,  and  was  keen  to  learn  about  facts  and 
people  in  England.  Never  have  I  met  so  frank  a  man 
in  high  position.  He  talked  about  himself  as  freely 
as  about  others,  and  described  with  humour  some  of 
his  experiences  when  President.  He  suggested  his 
plans  for  the  future  with  what  was  amazing  openness 
to  a  stranger,  seeing  that  those  plans  were  confidential. 
It  wanted  no  student  of  human  nature  to  understand 
the  power  which  this  man  had  secured  over  vast  masses 
of  his  fellow  countrymen.  Electricity  was  jumping 
out  of  him  all  the  time.  In  moments  of  excitement 


50  The  New  America 

or  at  the  culmination  of  a  joke  his  voice  rose  almost 
to  a  falsetto,  giving  extraordinary  effect  to  his  cli 
maxes.  I  came  away  from  Colonel  Roosevelt  feeling 
that  I  had  had  a  real  experience.  I  wondered  as  I 
walked  down  to  the  roadway  as  to  the  ease  of  access 
to  an  ex-President  of  the  United  States,  and  thought 
of  the  wire  entanglements,  to  say  nothing  of  the  earth 
works,  which  would  confront  a  stranger  who  tried  to 
see  one  of  the  ex-Prime  Ministers  of  England. 

Since  my  visit  to  Oyster  Bay  I  have  seen  Mr. 
Roosevelt  on  the  platform,  heard  that  falsetto  voice 
just  as  effective  in  public  as  it  is  in  private,  seen  him 
rouse  thousands  as  he  does  individuals.  He  may  be 
right  or  wrong  in  his  policies,  with  that  I  have  no 
concern  for  the  moment,  but  of  the  power  of  the  man 
there  can  be  no  shadow  of  doubt.  In  speaking  on  a 
platform  he  squares  his  shoulders,  poises  his  head 
back  pugnaciously,  and  from  time  to  time  brings  his 
closed  fist  with  a  sudden  blow  on  to  his  chest  and 
keeps  it  there.  Once  at  a  meeting  after  war  had  been 
entered  into  by  America,  he  was  interrupted  by  a  man 
in  the  gallery  who  shouted,  "Why  don't  you  go?"  and 
Mr.  Roosevelt  became  in  a  second  a  roaring  furnace. 
That  thick  body  of  his  was  bent  forward,  his  head 
was  forced  out.  His  finger  shook  with  passion  ex 
tended  towards  the  interrupter  as  he  hissed  that  it  was 
not  his  fault  he  had  not  gone  to  the  front,  that  he  de 
sired  to  go.  "But  I  have  three  sons  at  the  front  and 


What  American  Public  Men  are  Really  Like     51 

that  creature,  that  miserable  creature  up  there  I  tell 
him,  although  it  will  be  impossible  for  such  a  crea 
ture  to  understand  it,  that  I  would  a  thousand  times 
rather  have  gone  myself  and  given  my  life." 

Very  soon  after  this  I  went  to  a  down  town  office  in 
New  York  to  see  a  man  who  typifies  America's 
strength  rather  than  her  vivacity.  So  strange  are  the 
twists  of  human  ignorance  that  I  in  common  with  a 
good  many  strangers  vaguely  knew  that  Mr.  Elihu 
Root  had  been  a  distinguished  secretary  of  state  yet 
bore  him  chiefly  in  mind  because  of  the  pronunciation 
puzzle  on  his  Christian  name.  Well,  a  triviality  of 
that  kind  vanishes  at  the  first  glimpse  of  Mr.  Root.  I 
have  heard  political  criticism  of  him  even  though  he 
is  out  of  politics  now,  and  every  word  of  that  criti 
cism  may  be  justified,  but  is  there  any  one  with  a  dis 
cerning  eye  who  has  seen  him  who  does  not  know  in  a 
flash  that  Elihu  Root  is  a  big  human  force!  They 
are  not  frequent,  these  elemental  men,  in  any  part  of 
the  world.  I  knew  he  was  seventy  years  of  age  and 
yet  when  he  stood  up  at  a  meeting  in  Washington  a 
month  before  America  entered  the  war  I  saw  a  man 
whose  erectness,  dark  hair  and  gloomily  vigorous 
eyes  indicated  fifty,  not  more.  When  he  spoke  there 
was  clarity  in  his  words,  and  a  power  that  braced  and 
stimulated  even  one  who  like  myself  knew  him  but  as 
a  name  with  no  special  recommendation.  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson  says  of  one  of  his  characters  what 


52  The  New  America 

he  might  have  said  about  himself.  "He  was  a  type 
hunter  among  mankind.  He  despised  small  game 
and  insignificant  personalities,  whether  in  the  shape  of 
dukes  or  bagmen,  but  show  him  a  refined  or  powerful 
face,  a  passionate  gesture,  a  meaning  and  ambiguous 
smile,  and  his  mind  was  instantaneously  awakened." 
Stevenson  would  have  been  on  fire  at  the  sight  of 
Elihu  Root,  a  man  with  words  so  sternly  moderate, 
with  spirit  so  ruthless  and  strong,  with  a  brain  like  an 
irresistible  machine  that  grinds  to  power  human  mo 
tives,  and  the  ebullitions  of  smaller  intellects.  It  is 
said  that  Elihu  Root  has  no  emotions;  it  may  be.  I 
saw  evidence  of  patience  and  charity  and  insight,  but 
possibly  these  were  only  instruments  of  that  clear 
visioned  and  irresistible  will.  Seated  at  his  desk  in 
the  law  office  of  which  he  is  head  he  gave  me  a  close-up 
view  a  week  or  two  later.  My  first  impressions  were 
confirmed  and  deepened.  The  one  change  was  that 
I  saw  some  signs  of  age — but  not  many.  A  peculiar 
short  fringe  coming  straight  down  over  the  forehead 
gave  a  sense  of  boyishness  almost  of  carelessness.  A 
square  face  every  line  telling  of  power,  a  strong,  hard 
mouth,  eyes  laden  with  grim  wisdom — all  these  things 
went  with  a  quietness,  moderateness  of  words  which 
was  startling.  One  explanation  is  illustrative  and 
there  is  no  harm  in  relating  it  now.  Every  one  knows 
that  Mr.  Root  is  a  leading  Republican,  that  he  has 
been  a  great  fighter,  and  I  mentioned  to  him  the  fact, 


What  American  Public  Men  are  Really  Like     53 

that  while  other  Republican  leaders  were  severely 
criticizing  President  Wilson  for  not  entering  the  war 
he  on  the  other  hand  contented  himself  with  praising 
the  President  for  such  actions  as  might  conceivably 
be  taken  as  encouraging  to  the  Allies.  There  instantly 
came  from  Mr.  Root  biting  words  about  Germany,  and 
he  went  on  to  ask  was  it  not  better  to  encourage  the 
President  with  regard  to  policy  on  behalf  of  the  Allies 
rather  than  to  pick  out  matters  for  criticism?  That 
gives  you  a  touch  in  Elihu  Root.  No  Englishman 
could  meet  this  man  without  feeling  that  in  him 
America  has  a  bulwark. 

I  was  in  an  aviation  field  at  Dayton,  Ohio,  to  watch 
demonstrations  by  a  new  war  aeroplane,  and  I  saw 
among  the  group  of  spectators  a  slim  man  of  between 
forty  and  fifty  who  in  dress  and  poise  reminded  one 
of  a  certain  type  of  refined  well  bred  Englishmen. 
He  kept  himself  in  the  background  among  the  visitors 
although  he  was  evidently  much  sought  after.  His 
talk  was  gentle.  In  his  regular  delicate  features  one 
found  traces  of  that  old  British  type — Celtic  or  Ibe 
rian — which  is  buried  in  the  recesses  of  Wales  and 
Cornwall.  He  had  dark  blue  eyes,  dark  hair,  the 
straightest  nose,  and  a  trim  little  moustache  touched 
with  grey.  There  was  something  fragile  and  retiring 
about  him.  He  reminded  me  of  J.  M.  Barrie.  That 
man  was  one  of  the  daring  geniuses  of  America.  It 
was  Orville  Wright,  the  man  who  first  left  the  ground 


54  The  New  America 

in  a  flying  machine,  after  years  of  ceaseless  work, 
investigation  and  experiment  with  his  brother  Wilbur. 
Since  Wilbur's  death  Orville  Wright  is  the  remaining 
parent  of  the  aeroplane,  the  inventor  who  has  brought 
to  being  the  dream  of  centuries,  who  has  set  loose 
forces  the  extent  and  effect  of  which  in  war  and  peace 
are  even  now  but  dimly  perceived.  And  this  man 
who  has  conquered  the  air  for  the  world  of  today, 
given  a  priceless  secret  to  future  generations,  and 
risked  his  life  in  those  early  experiments  a  hundred 
times  to  do  it,  looked  like  the  cultured  book  recluse 
from  the  city,  anxious  not  to  obtrude  himself  among 
the  distinguished  amateurs  who,  presumably  with  a 
wealth  of  knowledge,  were  examining  a  new  engine  of 
science  of  war.  In  conversations  he  strengthened  the 
idea  of  a  man  of  culture  rather  than  of  action.  He 
was  not  sternly  reticent,  being  far  too  good  natured, 
but  he  would  rather  talk  about  the  ordinary  topics  of 
the  day  than  himself.  I  had  a  word  or  two  with  him 
on  those  early  days  of  struggle,  disappointment  and 
non-recognition.  He  described  them  like  a  spectator 
without  bitterness,  or  enthusiasm,  though  sometimes 
the  glint  of  a  smile  stole  on  him.  You  could  never 
dream  that  this  man  had  achieved  anything  very  re 
markable,  and  he  calmly  took  for  granted  the  fact 
that  his  postal  address  was  "Orville  Wright,  Amer 


ica." 


What  American  Public  Men  are  Really  Like     55 

I  went  to  hear  Billy  Sunday  preach  because  he  is  a 
national  institution,  and  because  a  man  who  has  been 
a  professional  baseball  player  and  has  become  a  re 
vivalist  with  the  power  to  attract  tens  of  thousands 
whenever  he  speaks  must  be  a  great  actor,  a  prophet, 
or  a  supreme  man  of  business.  Billy  Sunday  has 
been  called  all  these  things.  Judgment  depends 
largely  on  one's  temperament.  I  found  him  at  least  a 
tremendous  spectacle. 

Billy  Sunday  is  an  oval  faced  man  with  a  big 
mouth,  lively  eyes,  and  the  well  knit  body  of  the 
athlete.  He  is  a  sensationalist.  He  is  also  flam- 
ingly  sincere.  It  is  the  novelty  of  the  man  that  both 
horrifies  and  attracts.  I  saw  him  walking  up  and 
down  a  platform  on  a  hot  summer  evening  sending 
forth  exhortations  with  the  rattle  of  machine  gun  fire, 
exciting  an  audience  of  twenty-five  thousand  people, 
and  also  exciting  himself,  until  at  last  in  a  sudden 
paroxysm  of  physical  energy  he  slipped  off  his  coat 
and  stood  forth  in  shirt  and  trousers  with  handker 
chief  in  hand  to  wipe  continually  the  moisture  from 
his  forehead.  The  listeners  were  almost  as  hot  as 
he  was.  That  is  Billy  Sunday.  His  language  is 
ferocious,  appealing,  audacious,  but  it  is  all  part  of 
the  man.  He  means  every  word.  He  talks  of  the 
Deity,  and  to  the  Deity,  with  the  utmost  familiarity. 
I  heard  him  break  off  in  the  middle  of  a  long  prayer 


56  The  New  America 

and  suddenly  address  biting  personal  words  to  the 
Devil.  In  order  to  do  so  he  doubled  himself  at  right 
angles  and  looked  down  over  the  platform  on  to  the 
floor  as  though  he  had  Satan  below  in  front  of  him. 
He  sneered  at  the  arch  enemy,  derided  him,  pointed 
out  to  him  his  failures  in  keeping  away  certain  in 
dividuals  from  the  meeting  that  night.  The  reality  of 
it  was  staggering.  He  could  almost  hypnotize  you 
into  believing  the  devil  was  on  the  floor  there  throw 
ing  back  snarling  words. 

On  top  of  all  this  Billy  Sunday  accentuates  his  de 
liverance  with  his  athletics,  sometimes  swiftly  crouch 
ing,  at  other  times  framing  himself  in  fighting  atti 
tude,  frequently  bounding  with  electric  movement 
from  one  side  of  the  platform  to  the  other.  He  is  in 
a  quiver  the  whole  time  and  so  are  some  of  his 
hearers.  Words  and  action  go  together  with  him. 
He  is  afraid  of  nothing  in  either  direction.  He  was 
recently  preaching  on  Bible  women  with  special  ref 
erence  to  the  mother  of  Moses  whom  he  exalted. 
"When  I  go  to  Heaven  one  of  the  first  persons  I'm 
going  to  meet  is  the  mother  of  Moses.  I  shall  say 
to  Peter  'Where  is  the  mother  of  Moses?'  and  Peter, 
he  will  turn  round  to  one  of  the  angels  in  attendance, 
and  say  'Page  Heaven  for  the  mother  of  Moses. 
Billy  wants  to  see  her.' '  -  It  was  all  uttered  with 
fervour  and  seriousness. 

One  may  or  may  not  receive  an  uplifting  religious 


What  American  Public  Men  are  Really  Like     57 

influence  from  Billy  Sunday  but  it  is  to  be  perceived 
why  he  is  an  institution  praised,  and  abused,  but  not 
ignored.  He  certainly  brightens  life  for  many — 
though  in  different  ways. 


CHAPTER  VII 

WHAT   AMERICANS    THINK    OF    THE    ENGLISH 

No  written  words  have  ever  conveyed  or  can  ever 
convey  to  the  people  of  one  country  what  are  the 
motive  forces  in  the  soul  of  another  country.  Resi 
dence  among  the  people  is  necessary  to  get  a  knowl 
edge  of  that  influence  called  temperament.  States 
men  sometimes  reflect  it  but  not  always,  authors  oc 
casionally  give  us  a  hint  of  it,  newspapers  provide  a 
guide  sometimes  accurate,  sometimes  erratic.  Among 
the  great  majority  of  the  English  people  there  is  no 
true  knowledge  of  the  spirit  and  feelings  of  Ameri 
cans,  and  among  Americans  as  a  whole  there  is  a 
similar  lack  of  understanding  of  Britain  and  the  Brit 
ish.  Ask  an  American  who  has  lived  some  years  in 
England  or  an  Englishman  who  has  lived  some  years 
in  America  and  you  will  be  surprised  at  the  sidelights 
and  the  illuminations  which  will  be  forthcoming. 

An  Englishman  is  entitled  to  a  smile  when  he  hears 
a  sincere  inquiry  as  to  the  powers  of  the  King  and 
questions  which  suggest  that  he  sits  on  a  golden  throne, 
sceptre  in  his  hand  issuing  his  mandates  to  the  Gov 
ernment  of  the  country  with  the  power  to  hit  on  the 

58 


What  Americans  Think  of  the  English       59 

head  with  his  sceptre  any  offending  subject  who  op 
poses  his  royal  will.  A  smile  will  hardly  meet  the 
case  of  a  high  British  official  who  had  never  been  to 
America  but  who  had  a  son  there  spending  more 
money  than  was  good  for  himself  or  his  father.  This 
high  official  asked  advice  of  a  friend  of  mine  recently. 
"My  son  is  at  Boston,"  he  said.  "He  is  spending  too 
much  money.  A  month  ago  I  sent  him  a  substantial 
sum.  He  wrote  back  thanking  me  for  it  but  his  letter 
was  accompanied  by  lamentations,  for  he  said  he  had 
encountered  a  misfortune.  He  had  been  visiting  some 
friends,  five  miles  from  Boston  and  returning  at  night 
was  set  upon  by  red  Indians  who  robbed  him  of  all  he 
possessed.  Do  you  think  that  is  possible  in  America 
at  this  time?" 

These  are  extravagant  incidents  but  from  farcical 
altitudes  there  stretches  down  a  vast  range  of  mis 
interpretation  and  misunderstanding.  It  is  one  of 
the  ameliorations  of  the  war  that  it  will  bring  inci 
dental  education  to  both  sides,  largely  by  means  of 
those  millions  of  unofficial  ambassadors  in  olive  green 
and  khaki  who  are  visiting  Europe  carrying  lessons  in 
their  daily  talk,  and  destined  to  bring  back  with  them 
to  America  a  thousand  truths  to  be  disseminated  from 
one  end  of  the  country  to  the  other. 

I  find  generally  speaking  that  in  America  the 
gorgeous  history  of  Britain  is  unknown  save  for  that 
disastrous  blot  upon  it  in  1776,  which,  to  many,  com- 


60  The  New  America 

prises  the  whole  story  of  that  country.  For  the  other 
side  of  the  picture  you  have  the  English  with  an  im 
pression  that  America,  a  new  country,  boundless  in 
extent,  still  with  primitive  ways,  and  detached  from 
the  older  civilizations  is  yet  in  some  indefinable  man 
ner  still  part  and  parcel  of  the  British  world.  There 
is  but  little  realization  of  the  sensitiveness  of  Ameri 
cans,  their  intensive  patriotism,  their  fervour  at  being 
a  distinctive  nation,  pride  at  their  separateness  and 
individuality.  There  is,  or  there  has  been,  one  other 
extraordinary  misapprehension  among  high  and  low 
in  America,  arising  to  some  extent  from  lack  of  feel 
ing  or  tact  or  it  may  be  intelligence  among  individual 
Englishmen — and  that  is  as  to  the  general  feeling  on 
America  in  the  old  country.  With  an  amiable  criti 
cism  here  and  there  the  English  people  have  never  felt 
anything  but  the  utmost  friendliness  to  Americans. 
Apart  from  a  gibing  joke  or  two  we  never  heard  even 
in  those  trying  days  before  America  was  in  the  war 
bitter  comment  on  the  United  States,  and  aside  from 
the  war  there  was  an  almost  exaggerated  respect  for 
the  American  genius,  reflected  partly  in  the  news 
papers  but  more  particularly  in  private  talk.  Judge 
of  my  surprise  on  coming  to  America  to  find  there  was 
an  impression  that  Britain  on  the  whole  was  critical 
of  the  United  States,  that  the  English  people  were  al 
ways  taking  the  opportunity  of  pin  pricking,  or  fault 
finding.  I  think  this  impression  in  America  was  one 


What  Americans  Think  of  the  English       61 

of  my  most  amazing  discoveries,  for  never  was  a  be 
lief  more  mistaken.  To  an  Englishman  it  seemed 
that  this  sensitive  and  proud  nation  was  entirely  mis 
taking  the  attitude  of  its  genial  if  somewhat  old  fash 
ioned  progenitor  in  Europe.  Other  travelled  Eng 
lishmen,  friends  of  America  to  whom  I  have  spoken, 
have  been  equally  astonished  at  this  error.  One  said 
"I  came  across  from  among  English  people  who  never 
say  anything  unkindly  of  the  Americans  to  find  a  be 
lief  here  that  we  were  always  bent  on  criticizing.  It 
is  staggering." 

Long  before  the  war  began  there  was  a  vast  body 
of  responsible  opinion  especially  in  the  Eastern  States 
which  was  cordial  in  feeling  to  Britain,  and  that  feel 
ing  has  deepened  since  the  war  began.  It  would  how 
ever  be  blinking  facts  to  deny  that  widespread  through 
out  the  country  among  the  masses  of  people  there  was 
indifference  varied  in  many  cases  with  suspicions  or 
actual  antagonism  with  regard  to  Britain.  It  arose 
from  many  causes,  some  of  them  unconscious.  The 
story  of  the  American  revolution  in  school  books  has 
been  such  as  to  implant  in  the  young  mind  a  sturdy 
prejudice  against  England,  and  this  has  persistently 
permeated  high  and  low,  although  subsequent  knowl 
edge  and  travel  has  modified  or  removed  the  feeling 
in  wide  circles.  Still  the  prejudice  existed.  It  was 
buttressed  and  added  to  by  the  influx  of  Irish  popula 
tion  during  the  past  fifty  years  who  have  come  over 


62  The  New  America 

here  from  a  land  which  was  poor,  and  felt  itself  op 
pressed,  and  they  and  their  children  and  even  their 
children's  children  carried  the  rancour  in  their  hearts. 
Among  many  of  these  the  efforts  of  Britain  for  Ire 
land  in  the  past  generation,  the  money  and  beneficient 
legislation  which  has  been  placed  at  her  disposal 
had  made  no  impression.  They  still  lived  back  in 
the  middle  of  the  last  century.  Some  of  them  even 
hated  England  more  than  they  loved  America.  Then 
there  was  a  vast  mixture  of  other  races  who  with  noth 
ing  to  incline  them  towards  Britain  became  impreg 
nated  with  a  feeling,  cold  rather  than  hostile,  but  in 
no  case  affectionate. 

There  is  a  wide  change  going  on  through  the  war, 
because  of  the  better  understanding  of  the  British 
people  which  has  resulted.  Still  the  old  tendency  has 
not  entirely  disappeared.  I  was  talking  to  a  distin 
guished  citizen  of  high  position  only  a  few  days  ago 
and  he  frankly  confessed  that  in  the  early  stages  of 
the  war  his  instinctive  prejudices  against  England 
made  him  feel  that  America  ought  not  to  take  part 
in  a  war  in  which  she  was  not  specially  concerned. 
He  admitted  that  his  feelings  were  altered  now.  A 
prosperous  and  intelligent  tradesman  whose  fore 
bears  came  to  this  country  from  France  half  a  century 
ago  was  indifferent  to  the  British  cause.  "The 
blooming  English,"  (with  a  half  smile,)  indicates  the 
sentiment.  And  yet  when  all  this  is  said  there  re- 


What  Americans  Think  of  the  English       63 

mains  the  fact  that  individual  Englishmen  are  received 
in  America  with  a  hospitality,  a  kindliness  and  a  wel 
coming  hand  such  as  is  a  delight  and  a  comfort  to  any 
stranger.  He  is  invited  out  socially,  and  profession 
ally.  Opportunities  are  forthcoming  and  he  feels 
an  invigorating  warm  heartedness  wherever  he  goes. 
Educated  Americans  (and  these  reach  down  through 
many  classes)  are  keenly  interested  in  the  intellec 
tual  life  of  Europe  and  the  personalities  of  the  old 
countries,  and  possess  what  may  be  called  a  generous 
intellectual  curiosity  with  regard  to  the  other  world. 
Just  now  and  again  an  amiable  prejudice  against  Eng 
land  creeps  out  but  it  is  not  in  the  least  offensive  and 
is  such  as  to  put  an  Englishman  at  his  best  rather 
than  to  alienate  him.  Now  and  again  one  meets  peo 
ple  who  are  enthusiastic  about  England,  generally 
those  who  have  lived  there  for  a  period  and  these  are 
almost  more  English  than  the  English.  It  has  to  be 
acknowledged  too  that  from  time  to  time  one  meets 
Englishmen  who  are  incapable  of  appreciating  the 
advantages  of  American  life,  who  are  narrow,  and 
who,  without  intending  to  be  so  are  distinctly  ill  man 
nered  with  their  fault  findings  and  their  criticisms. 
Though  not  a  general  type  they  produce  a  bad  im 
pression  wherever  they  go  even  among  the  kindliest 
of  persons. 

If  you  want  to  know  the  opinion  of  the  common 
people  with  regard  to  an  Englishman  you  must  visit 


64  The  New  America 

a  place  of  amusement,  the  vaudeville,  moving  picture 
show,  or  the  theatre  where  from  time  to  time  what 
is  supposed  to  be  a  typical  Englishman  is  presented 
to  the  audience.  You  will  generally  find  him  to  be 
rather  vulgarly  overdressed,  almost  invariably  wear 
ing  white  spats  over  his  boots,  with  a  single  eye-glass, 
with  a  walking  stick,  and  silk  hat.  Whatever  his 
class  in  life  he  uses  no  h's  and  repeatedly  exclaims, 
"Don't  you  know,"  "deucedly  clever,"  and  the  word 
"blooming"  in  every  other  sentence.  That  is  the 
type  which  is  supposed  to  represent  the  average  Eng 
lishman. 

Such  exaggerations  need  not  be  taken  too  seriously 
any  more  than  the  accentuated  drawl  which  is  put 
into  the  mouths  of  the  Americans  on  the  vaudeville 
stage  in  England  sometimes.  Nevertheless  these  rep 
resentations  do  manage  to  convey  an  erroneous  im 
pression  among  people  who  have  not,  and  never  can 
have,  the  opportunity  for  learning  about  a  foreign 
people  at  first  hand.  Americans  conscious  of  the 
power  and  extent  of  their  country  and  incalculable 
future  have  been  sensitive  with  regard  to  the  com 
placency  and  self  sufficiency  of  England.  In  the  fu 
ture  there  will  be  differences.  Americans  are  now 
confronted  with  a  hundred  manifestations  that  the 
English  are  not  insensible  to  the  great  qualities  of 
America.  The  war  will  also  demonstrate  that  Eng- 


What  Americans  Think  of  the  English       65 

land's  stolidity  is  in  essence  one  of  the  virtues  associ 
ated  with  good  fellowship,  a  placid  kindliness  and 
not  as  is  sometimes  supposed  a  patronizing  self  con 
tent. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WASHINGTON 

THE  name  of  Washington  somehow  conveys  the  im 
pression  of  a  respectable  city  of  officialdom,  a  city 
which,  though  important,  is  deficient  in  human  inter 
est.  I  went  to  Washington  and  found  it  to  be  one  of 
the  beautiful  cities  of  the  world. 

From  the  Pennsylvania  station  in  New  York,  a 
handsome  edifice  with  cathedral  like  spaciousness, 
from  which  one  descends  as  into  a  crypt  to  the  gloomy 
platforms  beneath,  I  set  out  on  my  two  hundred  and 
thirty  miles  journey  southwest,  with  my  English  eyes 
open  for  new  impressions.  The  flat  country,  the  ab 
sence  of  wheat  fields  and  lush  meadows,  with  a  certain 
sense  of  barrenness  were  forgotten  in  the  uplift  of  two 
exhilarations — and  that  was  when  the  train  crossed  the 
noble  rivers  of  the  Delaware  and  the  Susquehanna. 
The  sight  of  the  great  waters  like  inland  seas  rolling 
to  the  ocean  brought  back  the  stories  of  early  America, 
with  the  picture  of  Red  Indian  life,  settlers,  cabins 
and  forests  sloping  to  the  water's  edge. 

At  Washington  I  alighted  to  find  myself  in  what 
is  called  the  Union  Station,  but  which  might  in  truth 

66 


Washington  67 

have  been  a  King's  palace,  in  its  pillared  splendour. 
There  was  something  incongruous  in  the  fact  that 
taxicabs  were  speeding  up  to  it  and  hastening  away 
from  it.  From  the  station  onward  one  gets  immedi 
ately  the  note  of  Washington,  with  open  squares  rich 
with  trees,  tall  houses  and  hotels  in  white,  sudden 
openings  with  graceful  distances  and  over  all  a  rest- 
fulness. 

The  White  House,  a  charm  to  the  eye,  bowered  in 
grounds  not  too  large,  is  faced  by  a  full  foliaged 
public  square  with  statues  which  in  their  gracefulness 
are  a  welcome  change  from  some  of  those  in  London. 
Turn  your  eye  towards  the  station  from  which  you 
have  travelled  and  you  will  see  nearby  a  slowly  ris 
ing  hill  surmounted  by  a  pile  of  buildings  all  in  white 
with  a  domed  dignity.  This  is  the  Capitol  where  Con 
gress  works.  It  has  an  exquisite  effect  looking  down 
as  it  does  on  the  spread  of  the  city  beneath,  remain 
ing  meanwhile  a  landmark,  and  a  symbol. 

I  had  spent  some  years  watching  the  proceedings 
in  the  British  Houses  of  Parliament,  and  it  was  with 
special  interest  that  I  went  up  to  Congress  to  see  the 
House  of  Representatives  and  the  Senate  at  work. 
I  found  as  was  to  be  expected  wide  differences.  In 
the  Mother  of  Parliaments  the  parties  are  divided  by 
a  separate  aisle  down  the  middle  of  the  Chamber,  and 
in  Washington,  as  in  many  of  the  European  Parlia 
ments,  members  fill  the  Chamber  in  a  fan-like  series 


68  The  New  America 

of  seats.  The  British  Speaker,  bewigged  and  be- 
gowned,  sits  in  a  canopied  chair  with  no  desk  in  front 
of  him.  The  Speaker  of  the  House  of  Representa 
tives  is  seated  at  a  desk  on  a  platform,  without  mark 
of  office  except  the  huge  gavel  which  to  my  foreign 
eyes  seemed  as  big  as  a  carpenter's  mallet.  There  is 
no  Prime  Minister  to  face  criticism  in  Congress,  no 
line  of  Ministers  who  have  to  make  good  before  their 
audience  who  when  the  occasion  is  of  sufficient  im 
portance  are  liable  to  turn  those  Ministers  out  of  of 
fice.  The  authority  of  Congress  is,  so  to  speak,  dele 
gated  and  not  direct.  In  the  House  of  Commons  cen 
turies  of  precedent,  beaten  into  form  by  the  needs  of 
progress,  and  a  compromising  commonsense,  have 
evolved  a  procedure  which  is  held  in  reverential  re 
gard  by  the  members.  I  witnessed  some  debating 
excitement  in  the  House  of  Representatives  and  the 
Speaker,  Mr.  Champ  Clark,  rose  in  his  place  and  used 
his  great  mallet  with  all  his  strength.  He  had  to 
keep  on  hammering.  In  the  House  of  Commons  the 
Speaker  has  no  gavel  but  just  rises  to  his  feet,  and 
that  is  sufficient  on  all  ordinary  occasions  to  bring  a 
lively  or  excited  assembly  to  instant  quiet.  I  dare 
say  Congress  would  find  British  Parliamentary  pro 
cedure  irksome.  Every  nation  has  its  temperament. 

There  is  a  good  deal  more  freedom  in  Congress. 
I  saw  members  reading  newspapers,  a  deadly  sin  in 
the  House  of  Commons.  I  saw,  on  one  memorable 


Washington  69 

occasion,  children  brought  in  by  Congressmen  to  sit 
with  them,  an  unheard  of  thing  at  Westminster  where 
the  floor  and  members'  seats  are  sacrosanct.  With 
their  greater  freedom  in  many  directions  in  the  House 
of  Representatives  I  noticed  however  that  in  debate 
members  were  courteous  to  opponents,  one  of  the 
signs  of  a  public  comradeship  and  joint  responsi 
bility  which  is  discernible  also  at  Westminster — a 
parliamentary  spirit  born  of  legislative  bodies  with 
history  and  traditions.  This  similarity  served  but  to 
sharpen  contrasts.  One  thing  I  particularly  missed 
was  the  sharp  cut  and  thrust  of  "Question  Time"  in 
the  House  of  Commons,  where  the  day's  proceedings 
are  prefaced  by  three  quarters  of  an  hour  of  direct 
enquiries  addressed  to  Ministers  on  policy  or  admin 
istration. 

The  Senate  I  found  more  sedate  as  becomes  a  sec 
ond  Chamber.  In  relative  importance  it  outranks 
the  British  House  of  Lords,  the  legislative  effec 
tiveness  and  human  interest  of  which  are  much  be 
hind  the  House  of  Commons.  The  Senate,  a  potent 
instrument  in  the  governing  of  the  United  States,  com 
prises  able,  distinguished  and  determined  men  whose 
calibre  is  evident  even  to  visitors  albeit  the  speeches 
like  many  public  utterances  are  a  trifle  measured  and 
elaborate  in  delivery  to  the  ear  of  one  accustomed  to 
the  brisker  accents  of  the  British  Parliament.  The 
House  of  Lords  is  a  dull  place  without  very  much 


70  The  New  America 

power.     The  American  Senate  is  interesting  with  a 
great  deal  of  power. 

In  connection  with  Congress  here  let  it  be  said  that  I 
found  not  only  in  Washington  but  in  other  parts  of 
the  country  a  wide  difference  between  the  estimation 
of  Congressman  and  the  estimation  of  a  member  of 
Parliament  in  England.  A  member  of  the  legisla 
ture  in  England  is  a  man  of  note,  who  gains  social 
distinction  by  the  addition  of  the  letters  M.  P.  after 
his  name.  A  Congressman  in  America  is  not  re 
garded  in  the  same  light.  The  fact  that  he  is  in  Con 
gress  is  of  interest  but  does  not  elevate  him  so  very 
much  among  his  fellows.  A  successful  business  man 
in  Britain  frequently  looks  upon  it  as  the  culmination 
of  his  career  to  enter  Parliament.  The  public  so 
regard  it  also.  A  man  makes  a  fortune  with  the  de 
liberate  intention  of  entering  political  life  when  he 
has  achieved  his  lower  aim.  In  America  legislative 
work  seems  to  be  more  largely  taken  for  granted,  and 
a  man  does  not  derive  any  special  elevation  among 
his  fellows  because  he  takes  a  hand  in  it.  The  ex 
planation  is  perhaps  due  in  part  to  the  fact  that  there 
are  opportunities  open  to  an  English  M.  P.  which  are 
not  available  to  a  Congressman,  at  least  not  in  the 
same  direct  manner.  To  become  a  Minister  of  the 
Crown  one  has  to  be  a  member  of  Parliament,  and  it  is 
the  straight  road,  if  you  are  fortunate  as  well  as  clever, 
to  becoming  Prime  Minister  of  the  country. 


Washington  71 

It  is  said  that  all  Government  departments  in  every 
country  are  more  or  less  bound  up  with  red  tape,  and 
there  is  a  certain  amount  of  truth  in  the  suggestion, 
but  in  Washington  there  is  certainly  more  openness 
and  accessibility  to  officials  and  to  Government  leaders 
than  is  known  in  England,  probably  more  than  is 
known  in  any  other  country.  Provided  one  has  a 
genuine  reason  for  an  interview  it  is  possible  to  see 
almost  anybody  short  of  the  President  himself.  Be 
fore  the  war  it  was  possible  to  see  even  him  at  times. 
During  the  war  all  communications  with  him  was  al 
most  entirely  through  his  secretary.  The  secretary  to 
the  President  is  an  institution.  Mr.  Tumulty,  for  he 
was  the  incumbent  when  I  was  in  Washington,  occu 
pies  a  position  far  greater  in  importance  than  the  sec 
retary  of  any  Cabinet  Minister  in  London.  He  is,  I 
should  imagine,  the  President's  confidential  adviser 
and  friend.  It  so  happened  that  I  had  to  see  Mr.  Tu 
multy,  during  an  early  visit  to  Washington  and  I  made 
inquiries  and  found  that,  busy  man  as  he  must  be,  he 
was  open  to  callers  at  the  White  House  each  day.  I 
had  a  most  interesting  visit  not  so  much  for  its  purport 
or  its  result  as  for  its  sidelights.  I  had  no  introduc 
tion  but  I  had  a  professional  card.  A  policeman 
stopped  me  at  the  White  House  gates,  learned  my  mis 
sion  and  pointed  out  to  me  the  entrance  towards  the 
wing  where  Mr.  Tumulty  was  to  be  found.  At  the 
door  an  attendant  asked  me  if  I  had  an  appointment. 


72  The  New  America 

I  said  "No"  but  explained  who  I  was.  The  attendant 
weighed  me  up,  although  he  took  but  a  second  to 
do  so,  and  then  he  said  "First  door  on  the  right,  go 
straight  in.  Mr.  Tumulty  is  there."  I  entered  the 
room.  Mr.  Tumulty  was  seated  at  a  flat-topped  writ 
ing  table  at  the  other  end  near  the  window.  He  was 
talking  to  a  man  who  was  standing  by  the  desk,  ap 
parently  a  caller  like  myself.  The  room  was  large 
and  round  the  sides  of  it,  seated  in  waiting  were 
nearly  a  dozen  people.  As  the  turn  of  one  came  Mr. 
Tumulty  would  smile  across  at  him  and  the  man  would 
go  over  to  the  desk  and  would  sometimes  seat  him 
self  in  front,  but  at  other  times  Mr.  Tumulty  would 
stand  up  and  go  a  step  to  meet  him,  which  may  or  may 
not  have  been  an  indication  that  the  interview  was 
to  be  a  short  one.  The  conversation  between  the 
Secretary  and  the  caller  was  generally  in  full  hearing 
of  all  others  present,  though  occasionally  there  would 
be  an  unobtrusive  retirement  to  the  window  where 
the  two  could  talk  together  in  semi-privacy  for  a 
minute.  All  kinds  of  persons  were  there,  Congress 
men,  business  men,  newspaper  men,  and  I  heard  at 
least  a  dozen  problems  or  questions  put  to  Mr.  Tu 
multy  in  the  hope  of  transmission  to  the  President. 
There  were  consultations  on  public  matters  and  priv 
ate  matters,  but  throughout  all  Mr.  Tumulty  was 
serene,  genial,  unworried.  He  was  capable  too. 
That  geniality  and  slow  speech  of  his  concealed  a  pro- 


Washington  73 

fluidity  of  tact,  and  swift  thought.  How  under  the 
pressure  of  work  he  could  preserve  that  wonderful 
air  of  cheerfulness  and  patience  with  some  who  must 
have  been  bores  passed  my  understanding.  I  made 
my  mental  obeisance  not  only  to  American  ability  but 
to  American  diplomacy.  It  was  rather  like  being  in 
the  ante-room  of  Cardinal  Richelieu  and  watching  the 
efforts  of  callers,  distinguished  and  undistinguished, 
to  get  a  hint  of  the  Cardinal's  mind,  to  put  some  re 
quest  before  him,  possibly  to  try  to  obtain  an  audi 
ence.  The  Secretary's  swift  review  of  visitors  and 
their  needs  to  the  President  at  a  later  hour  came  to 
my  mind.  One  may  hazard  a  guess  that  in  some  cases 
it  would  be  piquant. 

The  hotels  at  Washington  are  a  social  institution; 
incidentally  they  provide  one  of  the  city's  principal 
industries.  I  do  not  know  that  it  has  another  apart 
from  Government  work.  Two  of  the  principal  ho 
tels  are  not  only  places  of  residence  but  rendezvous 
for  politicians,  diplomats  and  officials  and  business 
men  and  officers.  The  entrance  halls  are  like  public 
lobbies,  teeming  with  talking  groups  and  couples. 
The  dining  rooms  seem  to  be  choked  at  every  hour 
of  the  day  by  those  who  make  eating  an  excuse  for 
consultations.  In  one  at  least  of  the  hotels  there  is 
opportunity  for  public  meetings  in  a  hall  which  will 
seat  hundreds.  It  was  in  this  hall  on  my  first  visit 
to  Washington  that  I  sampled  an  American  repre- 


74  The  New  America 

sentative  gathering  and  came  in  contact  with  the  un 
expected  incident  which  is  never  long  absent  from 
the  stranger.  The  meeting  was  that  of  a  patriotic 
association  and  the  speeches  were  interesting,  but 
what  specially  held  me  was  the  undertoned  talk  of  a 
middle  aged  lady  on  my  right,  who  had  travelled  some 
hundreds  of  miles  to  attend  but  who  occupied  her 
self  in  a  running  comment  to  her  neighbour  who  hap 
pened  to  be  myself.  She  was  well  read,  slightly 
angular,  and  very  serious.  At  first  her  talk  was  level 
headed  though  rather  high  flown.  Presently  a  refer 
ence  in  one  of  the  speeches  led  to  her  private  an 
nouncement  that  she  knew  the  way  to  bring  the  war 
to  a  satisfactory  end,  namely  by  spiritual  effort.  The 
Allies  should  immediately  all  lay  down  their  arms. 
I  agreed  that  this  would  bring  the  war  to  an  end.  She 
seemed  pleased.  She  then  confided  to  me  that  she 
wrote  books,  and  I  politely  enquired  for  particulars. 
In  reply  she  said  that  one  of  her  writings  was  di 
rected  towards  showing  how  by  an  effort  of  will  the 
so-called  dead  could  be  brought  to  life.  "We  could 
reassemble  Lord  Kitchener  here  at  this  moment  if  we 
chose  to  do  so."  She  developed  her  theory  at  con 
siderable  length.  I  asked  for  further  examples  of 
her  work,  and  she  explained  that  she  was  interested 
in  the  resuscitation  of  forgotten  or  neglected  branches 
of  knowledge.  "For  instance  there  is  laughter  at  the 
idea  that  witches  could  ride  on  broomsticks  and  yet 


Washington  75 

there  is  nothing  to  laugh  at  in  it.  I  have  written  a 
little  book  demonstrating  their  capacity."  I  was  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  land  and  I  wrestled  to  get  com 
mand  of  myself.  She  seemed  quite  sane,  and  was 
tremendously  respectable.  To  secure  my  balance  I 
had  to  neglect  her  for  a  time  and  turn  my  attention 
to  powerful  words  by  Mr.  Elihu  Root  from  the  plat 
form  for  a  little.  A  few  minutes  later  in  a  pause 
I  sought  protection  by  turning  to  my  neighbour  on  the 
other  side,  a  well  dressed,  middle  aged  man  from 
New  York.  It  was  a  relief  to  get  his  matter-of-fact 
reflections  on  the  speeches,  and  I  felt  on  solid  ground 
again.  When  the  speeches  were  over  I  strolled 
through  the  crowd  in  conversation  with  the  New 
Yorker.  He  was  keen  for  the  Allies.  "I  ought  to 
be,"  he  said,  "my  forebears  came  from  France."  I 
was  sympathetic  and  heard  other  facts.  "My  family 
goes  back  a  long  way,"  he  continues.  "I  am  indeed 
descended  from  no  less  a  person  than  Charlemagne. 
By  the  way,  he  also  hated  the  Germans.  He  strung 
up  no  less  than  three  hundred  of  them  in  one  day,  and 
what  was  more  did  it  when  hemp  was  dear."  His 
face  was  that  of  an  earnest  man.  I  fled  from  him  to 
get  some  tea  in  the  restaurant.  I  asked  the  waiter  to 
make  it  of  treble  strength. 


CHAPTER  IX 

PRESIDENT    WILSON   AT    CLOSE    QUARTERS 

PRESIDENT  WILSON,  a  distinguished  man  of  letters 
and  somewhat  of  a  recluse,  with  an  intellectual  in 
terest  in  politics  and  Government,  became  President 
of  the  United  States  by  what  his  one-time  opponents 
might  regard  as  an  electoral  accident.  If  so  the  ac 
cident  is  one  which  will  leave  its  mark  on  the  history 
of  the  world. 

My  first  sight  of  President  Wilson  was  in  the  most 
dramatic  hour  of  his  life,  that  hour  in  which  he  stood 
up  before  Congress  to  declare  war  on  Germany  and 
tell  the  tense  gathering  that  all  the  young  men  of  the 
country  must  arm  themselves  for  the  struggle.  The 
gathering  was  at  white  heat.  President  Wilson  was 
the  coolest  man  there. 

I  was  not  sure  that  he  was  a  great  man  when  I  saw 
him.  I  had  heard  a  hundred  statements  about  his 
personality.  When  he  mounted  the  platform  by  the 
side  of  Speaker  Champ  Clark  on  the  fateful  evening 
of  April  2nd,  I  found  in  that  slim,  well-groomed  figure 
none  of  the  electric  output  which  sometimes  tells  one 

instinctively  that  a  great  personality  is  at  hand.     I 

76 


President  Wilson  at  Close  Quarters          11 

even  wondered  if  he  were  a  commonplace  man. 
Vainly  I  sought  for  marks  of  genius.  He  might  have 
been  a  schoolmaster  or  a  business  man  but  I  could 
not  see  him  as  the  leader  of  men,  far  less  as  the  leader 
of  the  nations.  It  may  have  been  my  blindness.  I 
saw  a  man  on  the  tall  side  of  medium  height,  erect, 
leisurely,  serious,  with  a  long  face  rather  pale,  with 
lustreless  eyes,  with  grey  hair  smoothly  brushed,  a 
touch  of  frontal  baldness,  a  man  with  long  white  hands. 
He  was  in  morning  coat  and  apparelled  with  a  pre 
cision  and  indeed  a  polish  which  goes  with  a  scrupu 
lous  precise  nature.  His  smile  was  polite  but  lifeless 
as  he  shook  hands  with  the  Speaker.  The  imagina 
tion  was  affected  by  his  extraordinary  calmness  in 
the  midst  of  that  Chamber  seething  with  expectancy. 
Was  he  an  ordinary  nervousless  man  or  was  he  the 
supremely  strong  man?  He  was  one  or  the  other. 
Ice  is  the  only  word  for  him  in  the  midst  of  that  cham 
ber  of  hot  emotion.  He  took  a  couple  of  steps  to  the 
reading  desk  before  him,  put  his  hand  into  his  breast 
pocket  and  drew  from  it  a  sheaf  of  notes  on  small 
sheets  of  paper.  He  placed  them  on  the  little  writing 
table,  with  one  hand  remaining  there  to  keep  them 
steady,  and  then  he  began  to  read  aloud  in  that  pecul 
iar  voice  at  once  so  soft  and  pleasing  and  penetrating. 
Still  he  might  have  been  the  schoolmaster.  Deathly 
silence  lay  over  all  the  assembly.  Smoothly  and  with 
out  a  falter  in  word  or  phrase,  without  a  misplaced 


78  The  New  America 

syllable  he  read  on  from  those  sheets  of  paper  a  mes 
sage  which  was  to  take  a  hundred  million  people  into 
war  and  which  was  to  set  a  mark  in  the  history  of 
civilization  for  all  time.  He  stood  erect  and  at  ease, 
never  shifting  a  foot  as  a  nervous  man  might  occa 
sionally  do  under  tension,  and  his  long  white  fingers 
showed  no  quiver.  I  began  to  realize  I  was  looking 
at  a  phenomenon.  Even  so  I  was  not  sure  of  the  kind 
of  a  phenomenon.  Subsequent  events  have  helped 
me  to  a  judgment  but  on  the  evening  President  Wilson 
uttered  the  words  which  were  going  to  make  him  a 
figure  in  the  history  books  for  centuries  to  come,  he 
might  have  been  a  professor  addressing  a  class  or  the 
secretary  of  a  company  reading  out  an  interesting  an 
nual  report  which  called  at  appropriate  intervals  for 
a  little  warming  of  the  voice,  a  little  stressing  of 
special  phrases.  When  he  had  finished  and  the  bursts 
of  cheering  had  died  down,  he  turned  and  shook  hands 
with  the  Speaker,  put  the  fateful  notes  in  his  inside 
breast-pocket,  and  stepped  down  from  the  platform  on 
his  way  out  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  carefully 
and  successfully  accomplished  a  task  necessitating 
preparation  and  scrupulousness  in  delivery,  but 
which  once  done  was  part  of  the  day's  work,  not  to  be 
worried  about  in  view  of  future  activities  to  which 
the  mind  must  thenceforward  be  bent. 

I  thought  about  President  Wilson  afterwards  and 
tried  to  assimilate  the  flavour  of  the  man.     But  for 


President  Wilson  at  Close  Quarters          79 

that  nervous  body,  that  long  rather  narrow  head  and 
intellectual  face,  I  should  have  called  him  stolid  and 
yet  I  knew  he  was  not  stolid.  He  ought  to  have  given 
me  impressions  of  British  restraint.  He  did  not  do 
so.  There  was  something  different,  something  more 
direct  and  boyish  despite  his  reserve,  than  was  to  be 
found  in  a  calm,  reserved  British  statesman.  I  saw 
in  him  traces  of  the  mordant,  clear-cut,  uncompromis 
ing  Joseph  Chamberlain  and  yet  he  had  a  more  effec 
tive  touch  and  his  phrases  were  more  literary.  There 
was  in  him  a  suspicion  of  Mr.  Asquith,  intellectual, 
with  that  mental  poise  which  accompanies  full  knowl 
edge  and  an  inflexible  will.  On  the  other  hand  he 
was  the  antithesis  of  Mr.  Lloyd  George  who  is  a  flam 
ing,  crackling,  bursting  kind  of  a  person.  The  mys 
tery  of  the  man  was  tantalizing.  I  wondered  what 
the  outcome  would  be.  The  test  to  which  he  was  about 
to  be  put  would  unfailingly  show  his  pith  and  fibre. 
Was  he  a  great  man?  Was  he  one  on  whom  the 
mantle  of  his  position  alone  gave  distinction? 

The  months  sped  on,  America  plunged  into  the 
welter  of  war,  and  President  Wilson  began  to  loom 
forth  for  good  or  for  evil  as  one  of  the  directing 
figures  of  the  conflict.  He  was  criticized  by  sections 
in  America.  There  were  mishaps  and  delays,  con 
fusions  and  complexities,  mere  incidents,  history  will 
say,  in  getting  a  continent  into  war.  Mr.  Wilson  be 
gan  to  emerge  as  a  force,  strong  to  obstinacy  in  his 


80  The  New  America 

courses,  sometimes  a  little  rhetorical  in  his  diction, 
but  withal  a  man  who  got  his  own  way  amid  a  nation 
of  strong  men.  He  may  have  been  right  or  he  may 
have  been  wrong  in  his  policies,  but  the  strength  of 
the  man  was  obvious  to  an  onlooker.  In  some  of  the 
criticisms  I  heard  that  the  President  did  not  mix  suf 
ficiently,  did  not  visit  camps  and  other  national  cen 
tres,  shut  himself  up  in  the  White  House  away  from 
councillors,  would  not  discharge  departmental  chiefs 
who  it  was  claimed  were  weak  if  not  inefficient.  And 
during  all  this  time  his  reputation  was  steadily  rising 
in  Europe  and  he  was  reaching  a  pinnacle  of  estima 
tion  probably  never  accorded  to  the  greatest  of  Amer 
ican  Presidents  before.  Once  in  a  while  he. would 
break  forth  with  a  speech  so  accurately  tuned,  so 
poignantly  vibrant  as  to  still  the  voice  of  criticism 
and  to  set  up  a  great  chorus  of  acclaim  among  friends 
and  opponents  alike.  I  began  now  to  see  behind  the 
veil  that  covered  President  Wilson  during  his  memor 
able  speech  in  Congress  on  April  2nd,  1917. 

It  so  happened  that  with  a  group  of  others  I  was 
received  by  the  President  at  the  White  House  on  the 
eve  of  the  time  when  the  swelling  American  army  was 
to  be  able  to  make  itself  felt  on  the  western  front. 
On  a  sunny  spring  day  I  went  into  the  White  House 
and  came  face  to  face  with  the  man  who  held  the 
world's  destinies  in  his  grasp.  It  was  a  different 
President  Wilson  from  the  one  I  had  seen  in  Con- 


President  Wilson  at  Close  Quarters          81 

gress.  He  was  still  the  well-dressed  man  with  the 
carefully  brushed  hair  but  now  his  face  was  irradi 
ated  with  a  welcoming  smile,  and  gentleness  of  man 
ner  lay  on  him.  The  look  of  friendship  was  in  his 
eye.  He  stood  in  the  midst  of  a  group  with  his  finger 
and  thumb  in  his  waistcoat  pocket  talking  appeal- 
ingly.  That  long  jaw,  that  curiously  mobile  mouth, 
and  soft  southern  accent,  moulded  themselves  into 
an  aspect  of  reserve  which  never  left  him.  It  was 
the  reserve  of  strength.  He  had  a  poise  of  words,  a 
poise  of  manner  and  a  poise  of  will  which  it  was 
easy  to  understand  would  bewilder  more  impulsive 
people  and  sometimes  dishearten  them  because  they 
would  not  understand  it.  He  turned  from  one  to 
another  in  the  group  with  a  quick  gesture  and  a  toss 
of  the  head  not  in  the  desire  for  approbation  but  be 
cause  with  a  probing  intuitive  instinct  he  wanted  to  be 
in  touch  with  the  party,  wanted  his  words  and  ideas 
to  be  understood.  Freely  and  frankly  he  talked,  ex 
plaining  his  policy  and  always  using  with  a  quiet 
resoluteness  the  first  person  singular.  He  took  it  for 
granted  that  he  was  the  responsible  man.  He  sought 
to  shift  no  burden  on  to  other  people,  but  there  was  no 
arrogance  about  him  for  that  is  impossible  in  a  man 
with  the  temperament  of  Woodrow  Wilson.  There 
was  however  a  subtle  assertiveness,  a  crystal  con 
sciousness  that  his  work  called  for  personal  decision 
continuously.  It  was  obviously  impossible  for  this 


82  The  New  America 

man  to  be  in  any  position  of  authority  without  using 
that  authority  to  the  fullest  limit  in  his  belief  of  what 
was  right.  He  spoke  on  vitally  important  matters, 
but  during  the  whole  of  his  twenty  minutes  discourse 
there  was  not  one  single  phrase  or  ever  a  word  wasted. 
As  a  literary  composition  it  was  closely  knit  and  with 
out  flaw.  His  thoughts  were  interwoven  in  perfect 
order,  and  had  a  directness  and  a  relevance  which  set 
ideas  jumping  in  those  who  heard  it.  He  used  a  lit 
tle  swear  word  once.  He  joked  once.  But  every 
thing  he  said  fitted  into  the  framework  perfectly.  No 
sentence  could  be  called  brilliant  in  itself,  but  the 
talk  as  a  whole  was  that  of  a  brilliant  man.  I  shook 
hands  on  leaving  him.  He  has  a  soft  and  steady  un 
hurried  grip  with  those  long  fingers.  You  can  learn 
much  from  a  handshake  sometimes. 


CHAPTER  X 

AMUSEMENTS   AND    SOME    CONTRASTS 

THE  incidentals  in  life  are  more  important  to  the 
ordinary  individual  than  the  tendencies  of  politics. 
Taken  in  the  mass,  men  and  women  are  day  by  day 
creatures.  America  is  a  glittering  new  country  with 
the  characteristics  of  youth  and  ardency,  a  country 
wherein  dignity  is  unexpectedly  mixed  with  a  free 
dom  from  conventions.  Let  an  Englishman  take  a 
glimpse  at  her  amusements. 

The  moving  picture  business  has  become  a  great 
industry,  and  if  you  want  to  know  why  you  must  go 
to  a  place  like  the  "Rialto"  in  New  York,  a  large 
and  luxurious  theatre  constructed  for  the  primary 
purpose  of  showing  pictures  on  the  screen.  A  deli 
cate  pink-tinted  light  steals  unobtrusively  through  the 
ceiling  and  sides.  The  stage  is  flanked  by  changing 
pictorial  scenes  placed  in  recess.  An  orchestra  num 
bering  scores,  it  may  be  a  hundred,  is  set  in  below 
the  level  of  the  stage  in  front.  The  entertainment 
opens  with  music  from  this  orchestra  not  slap-dash 
popular  jingles,  but  extracts  from  the  masters,  given 
with  care  and  finish.  No  picture  in  this, — probably 

83 


84  The  New  America 

the  finest  picture  house  in  the  world — gets  so  much 
applause  as  that  music.  There  are  songs  by  known 
singers,  sometimes  opera  choruses.  Afterwards  the 
picture  of  the  night  is  given  in  some  romantic  episode, 
a  wild  and  woolly  west  drama,  or  some  rippling  do 
mestic  tale,  and  whatever  is  the  story  it  is  presented 
with  a  photographic  elaborateness  and  completeness 
such  as  we  do  not  know  in  England,  a  story  moreover 
which  touches  only  the  healthy  sides  of  life.  Finally 
there  is  a  rollicking  comical  series  probably  drawn 
by  one  of  the  popular  cartoonists  which  will  tickle  the 
fancy  of  even  the  most  highbrowed  of  intellectuals. 
No  more  than  say  ten  seconds  seems  to  separate  the 
pieces  of  the  entertainment;  it  goes  like  a  piece  of 
swift  machinery  from  start  to  finish.  In  the  course 
of  many  visits  I  have  rarely  seen  the  time  when  there 
were  vacant  seats  in  the  large  auditorium.  Prices 
go  from  thirty  cents  to  sixty  cents  or  as  we  should 
say  in  England  one  shilling  and  threepence  to  half  a 
crown.  The  audience  range  up  to  the  millionaire 
class  for  if  you  enjoy  an  entertainment  in  America  you 
can  go  and  see  it  without  any  thought  of  caste,  whoever 
and  whatever  you  are.  President  Wilson  in  Washing 
ton  visits  each  week  what  we  should  call  a  music  hall 
performance  and  what  in  America  is  called  vaudeville, 
not  a  costly  and  ornate  show  such  as  that  given  in  the 
Palace  or  Alhambra  in  London  but  a  lively  entertain 
ment  of  the  ordinary  well-to-do  hall  such  as  the  Ox- 


Amusements  and  Some  Contrasts  85 

ford.  People  think  no  less  of  the  President  but 
rather  more  because  of  his  simple  tastes  and  human 
feelings. 

Thus  it  is  that  rich  and  poor  flock  to  the  movies,  not 
only  in  the  great  cities  but  in  the  smaller  communities 
throughout  America.  If  I  were  asked  to  name  one 
recreation  more  general  than  any  other  in  America 
I  should  say  the  moving  pictures.  It  has  incidentally 
some  good  results.  A  dozen  educational  influences 
can  be  brought  to  bear  in  the  pictures  which  are  not 
available  by  means  of  newspapers,  the  theatre,  or 
public  meetings. 

With  regard  to  the  stage  in  general  an  Englishman 
sees  but  few  variations  from  taste  in  England.  Good 
comedies  and  strong  melodramas  are  favourite  meat. 
George  Bernard  Shaw  lasts  a  week  or  two.  Forbes 
Robertson  is  ever  popular.  In  one  direction,  espe 
cially  in  New  York  there  is  an  innovation  for  an  Eng 
lishman.  Many  of  the  popular  restaurants  have  the 
so-called  cabaret  shows,  that  is  to  say  an  entertain 
ment  part  of  which  is  provided  by  performers  and 
part  by  the  guests  themselves.  Either  on  the  plat 
form  or  on  the  dining  room  floor  there  are  what  we 
in  England  call  "turns" — a  fantastic  dance  by  a  thinly 
clad  young  woman,  or  chorus  dances  by  groups  of 
young  women,  gaily  clad  but  still  not  over  clad,  a 
sentimental  or  patriotic  song  by  a  young  man  in 
evening  dress,  and  sometimes  a  coarser  ditty  rattled 


86  The  New  America 

out  in  metallic  fashion  by  a  lady  who  makes  up  in 
violence  of  emphasis  what  she  lacks  in  tunefulness. 
This  entertainment  is  varied  by  the  guests  themselves 
in  the  shape  of  a  dance  to  the  music  of  the  orchestra. 
The  dance  is  in  a  cleared  space  in  the  middle  of  the 
room.  Young  men  and  women  and  elderly  men  and 
women  get  up  from  their  places,  have  a  dance  and  sit 
down  again  and  complete  their  meal.  It  is  all  very 
unusual  to  an  Englishman.  Dancing  it  should  be 
added  is  a  rage  among  widespread  circles.  Waltzes 
are  a  variety,  and  variations  of  the  one-step  and  two- 
step  are  the  staple. 

Crowds  of  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  go  to 
the  baseball  matches.  Baseball  is  and  will  remain 
to  the  Englishman  a  glorified  and  developed  game 
of  rounders.  Americans  think  that  cricket  is  slow 
and  boresome,  and  that  baseball  is  the  king  of  games. 
A  cricketer  looking  on  at  baseball  has  his  cricket 
instincts  jarred  by  the  way  the  pitcher  sends  the  ball 
at  the  batter.  He  slings  it  with  a  fierce  throw,  hor 
rible  heresy  for  a  bowler  in  cricket.  The  quickness 
and  power  of  the  man  with  the  club  is  exhilarating 
and  so  also  is  the  agility  and  skill  of  the  fielders. 
The  game  goes  with  snap  and  dash:  the  men  are  in 
and  out,  the  sides  are  in  and  out,  all  in  a  swiftly 
moving  hour  or  two.  "Think  of  this  in  comparison 
to  cricket,"  said  an  enthusiast  to  me  one  day.  There 
is  no  reply.  You  have  to  be  an  Englishman  edu- 


Amusements  and  Some  Contrasts  87 

cated  in  cricket  from  early  school  days  to  manhood 
to  understand  the  thousand  subtle  fascinations  of  that 
great  pastime.  An  American  will  look  at  you 
blankly  if  you  try  to  explain  the  supreme  joy  of  a 
"late  cut"  or  a  "leg  glide."  They  do  not  appreciate 
the  accumulated  skill  of  a  cricketer,  and  cannot  be 
expected  to  understand  that  one  essential  is  the  test  of 
patience,  endurance,  and  doggedness.  The  niceties 
in  cricket,  of  judgment  as  well  as  of  execution,  are  not 
for  Americans.  Their  highly  strung  nervous  tempera 
ment  has  no  tolerance  for  a  game  which  to  the  stranger 
appears  slow,  but  which  for  the  initiated  has  its  fas 
cinations  in  a  mixture  of  scientific  skill,  gracefulness, 
the  power  to  hold  on,  touched  with  flashes  of  brilli 
ance.  Ranjitsinjhi  would  mean  nothing  to  Ameri 
cans.  They  would  regard  W.  G.  Grace  as  a  curiosity. 
In  nothing  more  than  their  respective  affections  for 
baseball  and  cricket  are  the  temperamental  differences 
of  an  Englishman  and  an  American  set  forth.  There 
are  however  common  ideals  behind  both,  the  rigid 
fairness,  the  unselfishness  of  team  work,  the  gener 
osity  and  self  denial.  To  "play  the  game"  is  a  phrase 
which  in  after  life  has  a  meaning  for  the  best  men  of 
both  countries. 

Americans  and  Britons  can  find  a  common  ground 
in  golf.  There  are  the  same  joys,  the  same  calami 
ties,  almost  the  same  swear  words  on  the  delightful 
courses  of  the  United  States.  An  Englishman  who 


88  The  New  America 

wants  to  feel  at  home  should  immediately  secure  en 
trance  to  an  American  golf  club. 

A  new  spectacle  of  America  at  play  is  the  seaside 
resort  in  the  summer.  An  Englishman  will  certainly 
miss  the  homelike  and  beautiful  hamlets,  the  warm 
and  cheering  popular  resorts  like  Folkestone  or  Cro- 
mer  or  Broadstairs.  Flat,  unrelieved  country  gives 
down  to  the  sea.  I  went  one  summer's  day  to  Long 
Beach  about  an  hour's  journey  from  New  York. 
There  were  thousands  of  bathers  on  the  scene,  men 
and  women  all  mixed  together.  Officials  were  present 
to  see  that  the  proper  bathing  dresses  were  worn,  and 
wonderful  bathing  dresses  they  were  so  far  as  the 
women  were  concerned — of  all  colours,  all  shapes, 
with  a  dozen  effects.  And  here  be  it  said  that  women 
who  go  into  the  water  must  all  wear  stockings,  a  dis 
play  of  the  calf  of  the  leg  being  regarded  as  improper. 
I  wonder  if  Americans  would  be  shocked  at  the  sight 
of  our  bathing  places.  Be  that  as  it  may  I  found  some 
freedom,  and  less  reserve  than  is  customary  at  English 
resorts.  It  is  a  bathing  costume  life  on  the  American 
beaches.  Men  and  women  in  light  garb  lie  on  the 
sand,  and  sit  on  the  sand,  and  walk  about  or  run  about 
in  their  bathing  dresses  in  a  way  which  is  not  in  con 
sonance  with  the  English  practice.  The  prejudiced 
English  eye  finds  something  unpleasant  in  those  half 
clad  men  lingering  about  sun-bathing  with  their 
women  friends.  Long  Beach  seemed  to  me  to  be  a 


Amusements  and  Some  Contrasts  89 

packed  mass  of  men  and  women  who  in  spite  of  the 
women's  stockings  were  not  garbed  for  lounging  or 
prolonged  conversation.  The  climate  makes  a  dif 
ference.  Attitude  of  mind  has  also  a  bearing. 

It  is  a  highly  coloured  mosaic  which  makes  up  the 
American  life.  I  had  heard  terrible  tales  about  Tam 
many,  had  read  a  book  which  demonstrated  clearly 
some  of  its  misgoverning  features,  and  was  prepared 
to  meet  monsters  in  its  leaders.  I  had  occasion  to 
come  in  contact  with  a  high  official,  the  District  At 
torney  of  New  York,  who  was  classed  as  a  Tammany 
man.  I  chanced  to  be  present  when  a  distinguished 
foreigner  at  the  District  Attorney's  office  had  to  give 
some  explanations,  delicate  and  embarrassing  for  a 
man  in  his  position,  with  regard  to  charities  with 
which  his  name  was  associated.  There  had  been 
some  little  muddle  and,  thanks  to  a  temporary  official, 
a  touch  of  doubt  as  to  the  genuineness  of  the  chari 
ties.  As  a  matter  of  fact  they  were  honestly  run  with 
the  highest  of  motives.  But  the  distinguished  for 
eigner,  not  a  good  hand  at  business,  was  soon  deep  in 
involved  explanations  with  the  questioning  lawyers 
who  took  his  preliminary  examination  in  hand.  They 
were  courteous  but  keen,  very  keen.  Their  enquiries 
showed  no  mercy.  In  the  midst  of  the  business  in 
came  the  District  Attorney  to  take  charge  of  the  mat 
ter,  and  with  a  kindly  salutation  to  his  visitor  he  mo 
tioned  his  assistants  to  continue  their  work.  To  a 


90  The  New  America 

purely  legal  mind  the  irrelevancies,  the  tortuous  ex 
planations,  of  the  gentle,  elderly,  loquacious  foreigner 
would  have  been  suspicious.  The  District  Attorney, 
a  debonair  man  with  quiet  eyes  and  a  humorous 
mouth,  fiddled  with  a  book,  looked  over  a  document, 
turned  an  occasional  uninterested  glance  at  his 
lawyers  and  their  erstwhile  victim.  Presently  he 
broke  in  smoothly,  gravely  but  decisively,  drew  an 
illustration  from  Charles  Dickens  to  show  how  no 
tabilities  should  be  on  their  guard  against  exploita 
tion,  conveyed  a  caution  in  the  anecdote.  The  next 
minute  he  was  pleasantly  discoursing  on  Dickens  in 
general  which  was  his  way  of  showing  the  enquiry 
was  at  an  end.  What  had  happened  was  that  in  those 
few  minutes  of  listening  he  had  formed  a  judgment 
of  the  man  under  examination,  a  judgment  which 
transcended  all  questions  and  replies,  assured  him 
that  the  foreigner  was  an  honest  gentleman  despite 
his  mixed  and  nervous  explanations.  At  one  stroke 
the  District  Attorney  had  cut  through  all  the  network. 
There  was  decision  and  charm  about  him.  A  man 
nerly  gentleman  is  the  same  all  over  the  world.  I 
know  this  is  no  argument  for  Tammany,  but  after  all 
one  is  human. 

I  had  been  told  that  American  long  distance  trains 
were  the  fastest  and  most  comfortable  in  the  world. 
I  found  them  travelling  at  the  same  rate  though  not 
any  faster  than  the  best  trains  in  Europe,  found  them 


Amusements  and  Some  Contrasts  91 

to  speak  plainly,  not  nearly  so  comfortable,  perhaps 
owing  to  their  steel  structure,  perhaps  because  of  the 
different  way  the  tracks  are  laid  —  at  any  rate  with 
a  continual  vibration  and  intermittent  jolting  unusual 
in  British  trains.  Pullman  sleeping  arrangements 
too  are  in  comfort  far  behind  the  English  separate 
compartments,  each  of  which  is  a  real  bedroom  in 
itself  at  a  cost  no  greater  than  is  charged  for  the  berth 
in  the  Pullman. 

The  wooden  houses  of  America  are  a  surprise  to 
one  who  comes  from  a  country  of  solid  brick  and 
stone.  The  newer  erections  and  especially  the  country 
homes,  bowered  as  they  are  in  trees  and  set  in  an 
atmosphere  of  greenery,  are  a  delight  to  the  eye  in 
their  freshness,  lightness  and  comfort.  But  wooden 
houses  do  not  improve  with  age.  Unless  scrupulously 
cared  for  they  become  shabby.  You  can  however 
easily  build  new  ones.  The  big  hotels  have  material 
advantages  over  most  of  the  hotels  in  Europe.  Tele 
phones  are  excellent  in  their  completeness.  A  fea 
ture  is  the  separate  bathroom  for  each  guest.  One 
has  however  to  get  used  to  the  task  of  going  down  to 
breakfast  with  unpolished  boots,  for  whereas  in  Eng 
land  it  is  the  custom  at  night  to  place  one's  boots  out 
side  the  bedroom  door  in  the  corridor  and  find  them 
there  brightly  polished  ready  to  wear  in  the  morn 
ing,  there  is  in  America  no  such  habit,  and  the  guest 
has  to  take  his  chance  or  to  use  his  energy  in  finding 


92  The  New  America 

a  boot  cleaner  in  the  street  or  in  the  basement  of  the 
hotel. 

Some  of  the  principal  newspapers  are  national  in 
stitutions,  a  little  copious  for  the  Englishman,  but 
carefully  constructed,  packed  with  f actful  matter,  and, 
the  best  of  them,  models  of  good  writing  on  the  edi 
torial  pages.  In  the  less  serious  papers  there  is 
sometimes  a  strength  of  comment  due  to  a  lack  of 
stringent  libel  laws,  but  it  makes  life  much  brighter 
for  readers.  The  main  difference  from  English 
papers  is  that  space  seems  no  object,  and  topics  are 
written  up  rather  than  written  down.  In  some 
journals  there  is  a  less  meticulous  regard  for  accuracy 
in  detail,  but  one  cannot  have  everything  in  this  im 
perfect  world,  and  at  any  rate  American  papers  are 
rarely  dull.  There  is  frequently  an  element  of  care 
free  gaiety  which  spares  neither  man  nor  his  institu 
tions.  One  of  my  first  weeks  in  America  was  bright 
ened  by  a  paragraph  reprinted  from  a  local  paper 
announcing  news  of  a  citizen  in  one  of  the  smaller 
cities  in  the  Middle  West.  It  ran  something  like  this: 
"Mr.  S.  Brown,  a  resident  of  Newville  who  has  been 
blind  for  thirty  years,  has  made  it  a  practice  to  take 
a  walk  of  a  couple  of  miles  every  morning  for  the 
sake  of  his  health.  Yesterday  morning  he  chose  for 
his  walk  the  side  of  the  railway  track.  The  end  of 
the  story  is  so  painful  we  do  not  like  to  print  it." 


Amusements  and  Some  Contrasts  93 

The  Sunday  papers  have  scores  and  scores  of  pages. 
To  a  bewildered  visitor  they  seem  acres  in  extent. 
It  is  however  not  necessary  to  read  them  all. 

In  the  big  cities  in  New  York  there  is  not  nearly 
so  much  of  what  we  would  call  home  life  as  there  is 
in  England.  It  is  the  custom  for  persons  of  nearly 
all  stations  to  live  in  flats  or  as  they  are  called,  apart 
ments,  rather  than  in  houses  large  and  small.  Peo 
ple  who  can  well  afford  a  mansion  prefer  one  of  these 
apartments.  There  is  a  strange  sense  of  temporari- 
ness  in  even  the  best  of  them.  They  give  a  visitor 
an  impression,  however  spacious  and  however  lux 
urious,  of  being  but  a  halting  place,  a  depot  for  a 
hurried  breakfast  rather  than  a  home. 

In  a  thousand  ways  America  is  more  outspoken 
than  the  older  peoples,  indication  perhaps  of  a  new 
outlook  as  well  as  of  courage.  In  the  West  divorces 
are  more  easily  to  be  obtained  than  in  other  parts  of 
the  country,  and  consequently  the  unhappily  married 
go  there  for  temporary  or  prolonged  residence.  The 
result  is  a  continual  but  changing  gathering  of  the 
newly  unmarried,  and  it  is  perhaps  to  meet  the  desires 
and  impulses  of  these  people  that  there  appear  ad 
vertisements  in  the  local  papers  similar  to  the  fol 
lowing. 

"Marry  if  lonely — For  results  try  me:  best  and 
most  successful.  'Home  maker':  hundreds  rich  wish 


94  The  New  America 

marriage  soon:   strictly  confidential:  most  reliable: 

years    experience:    descriptions    free.     'The    

Club.'" 

"Marry  if  lonely — For  speedy  marriage,  try  my 
club:  very  successful;  best,  largest  in  the  country; 
established  12  years;  thousands  wealthy  wishing 
early  marriage:  confidential;  descriptions  free.  The 
Club." 


CHAPTER  XI 

MY   MOST    INTERESTING    AMERICAN 

ONCE  in  a  while  a  stark  man  appears  in  a  country. 
He  has  qualities  which  are  such,  despite  any  patriot 
ism,  to  make  him  a  citizen  of  the  world.  He  may 
not  be  faultless,  or  particularly  popular,  but  he  is 
big,  and  hard,  and  strong  and  real.  In  such  a  man 
sincerity  burns  like  a  furnace  and  shrivels  into  ashes 
the  more  or  less  innocent  everyday  evasions,  and 
unconscious  dishonesties  of  lesser  men  and  women. 
Such  men  are  strong  meat — not  food  for  babes. 
Rich  is  the  country  that  produces  them. 

I  have  met  one  in  America  who  notwithstanding 
his  eighty-seven  years  has  a  mind  sharp-edged,  and 
gleaming.  His  tongue  is  as  caustic,  his  sympathies 
as  lively,  his  courage  as  unabashed  as  when  a  colonel 
of  thirty  in  the  Union  Army  he  had  an  interview  with 
President  Lincoln  at  the  White  House,  outlined  a 
method  in  conducting  the  campaign  and  suggested 
the  removal  of  General  McClellan.  General  Rush 
C.  Hawkins  lives  in  the  Washington  Square  district 
of  New  York,  a  commanding  figure  of  a  man  in  spite 
of  the  weight  of  years,  who  may  be  seen  taking  his 

95 


96  The  New  America 

constitutional  up  Fifth  Avenue  of  an  afternoon,  or 
mounting  the  steps  of  the  Union  League  Club,  where 
even  forty  years  ago  he  was  a  prominent  figure.  It 
was  my  good  fortune  to  meet  him  shortly  after  my 
arrival  in  America,  and  I  knew  I  had  made  a  dis 
covery.  General  Hawkins  is  one  of  the  persons  who 
convey  something  of  themselves  in  their  looks — spare 
and  gaunt  with  a  long  face,  a  fighter's  jaw,  a  delicate 
uprearing  forehead,  with  a  glint  of  humour  in  eyes 
and  mouth,  and  with  the  eagle  nose  of  the  man  con 
temptuous  of  fear  or  favour.  Virility  lights  him 
even  at  eighty-seven.  He  is  a  picture  of  what  I  have 
imagined  the  old  Duke  of  Wellington  to  look  like, 
"The  Iron  Duke"  as  he  was  called.  General  Haw 
kins,  American  to  the  core,  has  some  of  the  character 
istics  of  that  old  breed  of  last  century  well-to-do  Eng 
lishmen,  kindly  in  their  private  relations,  fierce  to 
their  public  enemies,  and  whose  attitude  to  shallow 
theorists  and  effusive  optimists  was  summed  up  in 
the  phrase  "The  country  is  going  to  the  dogs,  sir." 
That  does  not  mean  that  General  Hawkins  is  narrow, 
for  he  is  travelled  and  cultured,  with  an  expert's  in 
terest  in  those  things  which  inspirit  high  natures, 
paintings,  music,  literature,  philosophy,  and,  last  but 
not  least,  men  and  women. 

Back  in  the  sixteenth  century  there  were  three 
Devonshire  men  who  swept  the  seas  for  Elizabeth  and 
their  names  were  Hawkins,  Drake  and  Frobisher.  It 


My  Most  Interesting  American  97 

was  probably  in  the  seventeenth  century  that  General 
Hawkins'  ancestors  reached  America,  and  they  came 
from  Devonshire,  and  I  like  to  think  that  the  old 
General  is  a  descendant  of  that  sea  dog  who  knew 
not  fear,  and  helped  to  tie  the  British  flag  to  the  mast 
head  for  all  the  world  to  see.  Be  that  as  it  may  there 
was  a  grandfather  of  General  Hawkins,  Dexter 
Hawkins,  who  fought  in  the  Revolutionary  war,  keep 
ing  the  family  name  to  the  front  in  the  field  where 
it  had  won  distinction.  It  was  his  grandfather  on 
his  mother's  side,  William  Hutchinson,  who  was  Ad 
jutant  of  the  "First  Squadron  of  Horse,  Vermont 
Forces"  in  the  war  of  1812  which  patrolled  the  Can 
adian  border  at  Vermont. 

Of  the  fighting  blood  in  the  Hawkins  family  there 
can  be  no  doubt.  Rush  Hawkins,  a  boy  of  fifteen, 
deliberately  went  away  from  his  Vermont  home  in 
1846  to  join  the  American  army  in  Mexico,  and  al 
though  he  could  only  secure  enlistment  as  a  private, 
he  saw  war  in  being,  slept  under  canvas,  experienced 
camp  life  and  generally  picked  up  the  ways  of  a 
soldier.  He  must  have  been  a  hardy  young  rascal, 
as  well  as  an  independent  one,  a  curious  boy  too.  I 
should  like  to  have  known  him. 

General  Hawkins  once  said  to  me  with  a  hard  smile, 
"I  was  born  without  faith,  hope  or  fear."  But  that 
dogmatic  negative  assertion  covers  an  implication  of 
positive  qualities  with  which  his  life  is  amply  marked. 


98  The  New  America 

In  the  twenties  he  spent  a  couple  of  years  in  the  South 
and  that  spirit,  at  once  so  hard  and  so  sympathetic, 
was  revolted  by  the  institution  of  slavery.  When  in 
1861  the  war  came  he  was  in  New  York,  and  pro 
ceeded  immediately  to  raise  a  regiment  for  service, 
and  the  "Hawkins  Zouaves"  became  the  name  which 
even  now  sounds  like  a  trumpet  not  only  to  those  who 
fought,  but  to  their  sons  and  grandsons.  He  soon 
had  opportunity  for  service.  It  became  necessary  to 
capture  southern  forts  which  had  been  established 
at  Hatteras  Inlet,  and  in  the  squadron  which  went 
away  under  sealed  orders  in  August  1861  from  New 
port  News,  Colonel  Hawkins  was  the  second  in  com 
mand  of  the  military  forces,  consisting  of  four  com 
panies  of  his  own  regiment  and  other  details.  There 
was  a  clean-cut  piece  of  work,  with  bombardment  and 
the  landing  of  troops  at  Hatteras,  and  Colonel  Haw 
kins  was  left  in  charge  of  the  captured  forts.  He  was 
a  man  born  to  incident  and  adventure  as  the  sparks 
fly  upwards.  It  so  happened  that  Governor  Morgan 
of  New  York  sent  down  to  him  an  officer  to  be  joined 
to  his  regiment,  but  Colonel  Hawkins,  knowing  that 
the  character  and  private  life  of  this  officer  was  sub 
ject  to  reproach,  refused  to  assign  him  to  a  regiment 
of  which  he  was  as  proud  as  a  sweetheart.  There 
was  immediate  trouble.  General  Williams  came 
down,  placed  Colonel  Hawkins  under  arrest  for  dis 
obedience  of  orders  and  sent  him  up  to  headquarters 


My  Most  Interesting  American  99 

at  Old  Point  Comfort  for  trial.  As  luck  would 
have  it  the  Government  at  Washington  wished  infor 
mation  as  to  the  position  at  Hatteras  Inlet,  and  Col 
onel  Hawkins  was  released  from  arrest  and  sent 
to  Washington  to  give  the  benefit  of  his  advice  and 
knowledge  to  the  Government  with  regard  to  the  cap 
tured  positions.  He  saw  President  Lincoln,  spent  an 
evening  with  him  at  the  White  House,  and  as  a  sequel 
was  present  at  the  next  day's  meeting  at  the  Cabinet. 
It  was  during  his  talk  with  President  Lincoln  that 
Colonel  Hawkins  was  enabled  to  give  the  story  as  to 
his  insubordination  and  what  had  happened  to  him 
self.  Lincoln  listened  gravely  and  sympathetically 
and  then  said:  "You  did  the  right  thing  although 
perhaps  you  did  it  in  the  wrong  way.  This  matter 
must  be  settled  quietly  and  amicably.  You  will  go 
back  and  tell  the  General  this  from  me.  You  will 
say  that  I  do  not  wish  to  offend  Governor  Morgan, 
Governor  of  the  State  of  New  York,  on  which  I  must 
rely  to  draw  the  largest  number  of  troops  to  end  this 
terrible  war.  You  and  the  Governor  and  the  Gen 
eral  must  settle  this  matter  between  you.  You  can 
say  from  me  that  I  think  you  acted  rightly." 

It  was  shortly  after  this  that  Colonel  Hawkins  hav 
ing  learned  the  position  of  affairs  at  Washington, 
"Over  run  with  McClellan's  Generals  who  did  noth 
ing  but  talk,"  became  incensed  at  McClellan's  inac 
tivity,  took  council  with  Mr.  Caleb  Smith,  one  of 


100  The  New  America 

the  Cabinet,  and  secured  interviews  with  President 
Lincoln  to  whom  he  explained  that  action  should  be 
taken  immediately,  that  the  lack  of  movement  of 
the  army  of  the  Potomac  was  playing  into  the  ene 
mies'  hand,  and  suggested  a  line  of  action  which 
would  bring,  he  believed,  both  battle  and  victory. 
One  can  picture  a  very  human  and  very  wise  Abra 
ham  Lincoln  listening  to  the  enthusiastic  and  hard 
headed  young  Colonel,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  it 
was  the  memory  of  this  interview  which  later  caused 
him  to  say  "I  wish  all  the  officers  in  the  army  had 
your  spirit.  If  they  had  this  war  would  soon  be 
over."  The  President  took  in  all  the  arguments 
which  the  Colonel  laid  before  him,  put  in  a  ques 
tioning  word  here  and  there,  and  showed  both  sym 
pathy  and  understanding.  When  the  interview  drew 
to  its  close  he  expressed  his  appreciation.  He 
added :  "I  shall  not  remove  General  McClellan  from 
his  position  as  Commander  in  Chief.  He  is  my 
General  and  I  must  support  him."  The  President 
however  gave  his  card  to  Colonel  Hawkins,  and  in 
structed  him  to  go  to  General  McClellan  and  to  lay 
before  him  his  arguments  for  an  immediate  advance. 
Colonel  Hawkins  went  over  to  General  McClellan's 
office,  and  sent  up  his  card  with  the  President's  only 
to  be  told  that  General  McClellan  was  too  busy  to 
see  him.  The  young  Colonel  would  not  perhaps  have 
been  so  offended  by  the  rebuff  had  he  known  that 


My  Most  Interesting  Ajn?rico?rt  101 

McClellan  a  few  days  before  had  refused  an  inter 
view  to  President  Lincoln  himself.  How  McClellan 
was  subsequently  removed  from  his  command  after 
the  utmost  patience  and  kindness  from  Lincoln  is  a 
matter  of  history.  It  was  in  1864  that  President 
Lincoln  recalling  that  early  interview  to  Colonel  Haw 
kins  spoke  of  McClellan.  "Poor  George.  I  did  all 
I  could  for  him.  He  could  do  nothing  for  himself." 

Of  the  dash  and  courage  with  which  Colonel 
Hawkins  led  his  men  in  action  there  is  evidence  in 
the  official  records.  On  one  occasion  at  least  his 
sagacity  saved  a  great  deal  of  useless  slaughter. 
After  the  first  battle  of  Fredericksburg,  where  an 
attack  on  practically  unpregnable  positions  cost 
thousands  of  men  against  southern  losses  of  a  few 
hundreds  there  was  a  council  of  Generals  to  formu 
late  another  attack  next  morning,  and  it  was  the  facts 
and  arguments  of  Colonel  Hawkins,  present  as  a  bri 
gade  commander,  which  caused  General  Burnside  to 
countermand  the  order  for  the  new  attack. 

But  the  salt  and  savour  of  General  Hawkins  springs 
not  from  the  one  fact  that  he  is  a  fighter,  but  from 
many  other  things  that  he  is  in  addition  to  being  a 
fighter.  He  was  chairman  of  a  Committee  of  the 
Union  League  Club  in  1875  which  investigated  Tam 
many  methods  and  presented  a  report  as  poignant  in 
facts  and  figures  as  in  argument.  There  were  searing 
words.  Needless  to  say  that  General  Hawkins  was 


W2  The  .New  America 

the  writer.  He  has  his  prejudices,  and  whether  they 
may  be  altogether  well  founded  or  not  he  retains 
them.  It  is  possible  to  listen  to  his  bitter  denuncia 
tions  with  joy  even  when  one  does  not  entirely  share 
his  views.  He  has  many  links  with  England  for 
which  he  has  both  affection  and  admiration,  but 
he  heartily  dislikes  some  of  the  English.  "My 
first  books  as  a  boy  were  'Scottish  Chiefs'  and  the 
'Life  of  Wallace.'  I  loved  to  read  of  old  Wallace 
with  that  great  claymore  of  his  sweeping  off  the 
heads  of  acres  of  Englishmen."  (There  would  be  a 
chuckle  after  this.)  He  loves  the  French.  He  has  a 
passion  for  books,  paintings,  is  an  art  connoisseur 
and  has  a  fine  taste  in  literature.  Forty  years 
ago  he  wrote  the  first,  and  then,  only  authoritative 
history  in  relation  to  the  first  books  produced  from 
early  printing  presses.  Since  then  he  has  spent  a 
quarter  of  a  century  in  collecting  first  books  or  at 
any  rate  early  books  from  the  first  presses  of  the  first 
printers  of  the  fifteenth  century.  His  collection  now 
ranks  with  that  possessed  by  the  British  Museum 
and  is  probably  the  second  finest  in  the  world.  His 
love  of  art  is  sufficiently  evidenced  by  the  fact  that 
in  1889  he  was  appointed  American  art  commissioner 
at  the  Paris  Exposition.  During  his  work  there  he 
had  his  famous  encounter  with  Whistler,  reported  in 
the  "Gentle  Art  of  Making  Enemies,"  an  encounter 
in  which  the  General  took  upon  himself,  in  view  of 


My  Most  Interesting  American  103 

Whistler's  demands,  to  agree  with  almost  offensive 
alacrity  that  the  famous  painter  should  immediately 
remove  the  whole  of  his  exhibits  from  the  American 
collection.  It  was  during  this  period  in  Paris  that 
he  had  talks  with  King  Edward  VII,  then  Prince  of 
Wales,  and  received  from  him  a  private  invitation 
to  call  and  have  a  chat  next  time  he  was  in  London. 
I  can  not  help  thinking  that  the  pride  of  General 
Hawkins  was  at  least  the  equal  of  the  pride  of  the 
heir  apparent  to  the  British  throne,  who  revealed 
himself  as  a  genial  well  informed  keen  man  and  who 
in  other  circumstances  might  have  been  an  acceptable 
friend. 

Running  like  a  golden  thread  through  the  eventful 
life  of  this  belligerent  critical  man  of  the  world  was 
the  companionship  of  his  wife  who  was  Miss  Ann- 
mary  Brown,  daughter  of  Mr.  Nicholas  Brown  of 
Providence.  She  is  now  dead.  Her  portrait  shows 
some  secret  of  the  sweet  influence  she  brought  to 
bear  on  a  man  with  few  of  the  softer  illusions  about 
human  nature  and  who  had  one  ideal  only  during 
forty-three  years  of  married  life.  It  is  too  sacred  a 
matter  for  an  outsider  to  do  more  than  touch  with  the 
lightest  hand.  But  no  one  who  knows  this  strong, 
dominating  man  can  fail  to  perceive  the  beautiful 
mystery  within,  which  has  persisted  from  the  day 
when  he  married,  twenty-nine  years  of  age,  and  is 
now,  after  his  wife  is  gone,  as  strong  and  as  pervad- 


104  The  New  America 

ing  as  in  those  sweetheart  times  when  few  of  those  at 
present  living  had  come  upon  the  earth.  Since  Mrs. 
Hawkins'  death  he  has  established  at  Providence  a 
memorial  to  her  which  houses  a  notable  collection  of 
art  treasures,  the  early  books  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
an  assembly  of  pictures,  old  manuscripts  and  some 
fifteen  thousand  letters,  many  of  them  from  the  dis 
tinguished  men  and  women  who  have  lived  during  his 
time. 

His  naked  fierce  sincerity  would  lead  casual  ob 
servers  to  believe  that  he  was  a  cynic — and  indeed 
in  some  matters  he  is  a  cynic.  He  has  for  instance 
wrestled  with  divines  about  the  everlasting  secret. 
He  does  not  wish  to  live  again,  he  says.  Brusquely 
he  asks  whether  the  enormous  majority  of  humans 
are  worth  preserving.  "Why  there  is  only  one  per 
son  in  fifty  thousand  persons  who  is  worth  acquain 
tance,  and  what  is  the  Almighty  going  to  do  with 
all  this  trash?  I  don't  want  to  live  another  life  on  one 
of  the  rings  of  Saturn  or  anywhere  else.  If  there  is 
immortality,  dogs  and  horses  are  at  least  as  worthy 
of  it  as  human  beings.  Is  there  any  man  or  woman 
with  the  fidelity  of  dogs,  with  the  unselfishness  of 
dogs?  Of  course  there's  not."  Here  it  may  be 
said  in  parenthesis  that  the  old  General  has  always 
been  moved  by  a  love  of  animals.  He  was  one  of 
the  original  members  of  the  Society  for  the  Preven 
tion  of  Cruelty  to  Animals  founded  by  Henry  Bergh 


My  Most  Interesting  American  105 

—a  society  from  which  has  sprung  400  similar  or 
ganizations  in  various  parts  of  the  world. 

He  will  tell  you  that  he  adopts  the  considered  judg 
ment  of  Simon  Newcomb,  the  astronomer,  who  devoted 
a  long  life  to  studying  the  heavens  for  the  practical 
purposes  of  the  Government,  and  who  once  said  to 
him  "In  my  experience  I  have  never  discovered  any 
'fact'  that  leads  me  to  believe  there  is  an  existence 
beyond  the  present." 

Yet  this  fierce,  contemptuous,  unbelieving  critic  has 
written  down  his  code  of  life  in  words  illumined 
by  spirituality.  I  cull  a  few  passages. 

THE    FINDING    OF    PEACE 

"Those  who  love  nature 
And  search  understandingly 
Will  find  the  infinite." 

THE    USES    OF    LIFE 

"Not  as  we  take  but  as  we  give, 
Not  as  we  pray  but  as  we  live, 
Not  as  they  say  but  as  we  do, 
Not  as  we  reap  but  as  we  sow." 

CREDO 

"I  believe  in  unconditioned  honesty, 
The  power  and  practice  of  truth, 
Love  of  the  beautiful,  and  the 
Influence  of  noble  aspirations." 

He  is  a  man  of  no  compromise,  General  Hawkins, 
and  yet  here  is  an  extract  which  carries  with  singular 


106  The  New  America 

clearness  the  imprint  of  mingled  challenge  and  hope: 
"To  men  the  puzzle  of  the  world  will  never  be 
revealed.  The  all-powerful  illimitable  creative  force 
that  directs  its  course  and  that  of  numberless  others 
is  a  jealous  authority  holding  this  secret  of  the  ages 
under  single  control.  Men  may  surmise,  guess,  be 
lieve,  have  faith  and  hope,  but  to  no  purpose.  The 
little  we  may  be  permitted  to  understand  about  this 
boundless  power  and  its  creation  can  come  to  us  only 
through  contemplation  and  study  of  its  works,  our 
world,  as  we  see,  love,  and  learn  to  appreciate  its 
intimate  benevolence  and  never  ending  enchanting 
beauties." 

His  comments  on  public  affairs  are  as  pungent  as 
they  are  penetrating.  He  is  a  swift  discerner  of 
men  and  women.  Some  might  find  in  him  a  harsh 
philosopher.  His  words  are  often  without  mercy. 
And  yet  in  private  his  benefactions  are  unceasing, 
bestowed  often  in  secret  and  sometimes  anonymously. 
To  those  persons,  men  and  women,  whom  he  likes, 
he  has  the  graciousness  which  for  centuries  has  been 
accompanied  by  the  name  of  "perfect  gentleman." 
He  loves  to  think  himself  material,  living  from  day  to 
day  a  straight  life,  an  upright  life,  just  for  what  that 
day  may  bring  forth,  and  yet  unknown  to  himself 
there  is  running  through  him  and  emanating  from 
him  a  spirituality  which  lifts  him  cloud  high,  which 
permeates  those  who  come  in  touch  with  him  and 


My  Most  Interesting  American  107 

leaves  them  fitter  men  and  women.  When  the  time 
comes  for  Rush  Hawkins  to  leave  this  earth,  his 
countrymen  may  appropriately  write  on  his  memorial 
the  words  "Here  lies  a  great  American,"  but  those 
who  know  him  best  will  realize  that  an  inscription 
even  more  fitting  would  be  "Here  rests  the  shadow  of 
a  great  soul." 


CHAPTER  XII 

AMERICA   AT    WAR 

A  WELL-KNOWN  American  clergyman  described  to 
me  his  pre-war  attitude  as  follows:  "I  am  not  un 
friendly  to  England  and  France  and  prefer  their  way 
of  life  to  that  of  Germany  but  still  I  see  no  adequate 
reason  for  leading  the  American  people  into  the  ter 
rible  abyss  of  war."  I  believe  that  phrase,  in  spite 
of  enthusiastic  friends  the  Allies  possessed  in  the 
Eastern  States,  gives  a  pretty  good  hint  of  what  the 
majority  of  American  people  felt.  There  were  veins 
of  Germany  sympathy.  There  were  patches — and  big 
patches — of  non-German  suspicion  or  hostility  towards 
Britain.  But  the  bulk  of  the  American  people,  loving 
peace  and  hating  war,  saw  no  compelling  reason  for 
the  entry  to  a  shambles  of  destruction  of  millions 
of  their  young  men.  German  propaganda  probably 
had  something  to  do  with  it;  old  prejudices  against 
Britain  helped.  But  the  main  reason  was  the  tra 
ditional  American  aloofness  from  the  troubles  and 
quarrels  of  an  ancient  continent,  the  merits  or  de 
merits  of  which  had  no  concern  for  a  self  sufficing 
nation  three  thousand  miles  away. 

108 


America  at  War  109 

There  were  however  flutterings  of  feeling  from 
time  to  time  as  German  aims  and  methods  were 
focussed  in  the  light.  The  plight  of  Belgium  was 
hard  to  swallow,  and  so  was  the  danger  to  France. 
Then  the  submarine  activities  were  unpleasant  to 
America's  self  respect.  And  looking  back  over  a  pe 
riod  of  eighteen  months  one  may  perhaps  perceive  a 
certain  stirring  of  spirit  against  the  military  monster 
which  threatened  the  world,  a  rousing  which  sooner 
or  later  would  have  led  to  action.  And  there  were 
of  course  thunderous  champions  of  the  Allies  espe 
cially  in  the  newspapers  of  the  Eastern  States.  All 
the  same  it  was  a  peace-desiring  nation  in  which  I 
lived  in  the  first  three  months  of  1917.  President 
Wilson  was  undoubtedly  supported  by  the  vast  ma 
jority  of  Americans  in  withholding  his  hand.  That 
may  or  may  not  be  palatable  but  it  strikes  an  observer 
as  an  outstanding  truth. 

Suddenly  a  dramatic  change  swept  across  the  na 
tion,  already  a  little  restive  amid  certain  sections. 
Germany  practically  ordered  the  American  flag  off 
the  ocean  except  in  such  parts  as  were  specified  as 
exempt.  That  was  the  match  to  powder.  The  Ameri 
can  nation  flamed  out  in  a  proud  rage.  Defiance 
was  flung  forth.  Pro-German  and  other  groups  tried 
to  stem  the  resentment  among  many  of  the  people. 
They  might  as  well  have  tried  to  stop  Niagara.  When, 
after  a  series  of  outrages  on  American  ships  and 


110  The  New  America 

the  loss  of  American  lives,  President  Wilson  went 
down  to  Congress  and  declared  a  state  of  war  to  exist 
with  Germany,  the  country  shouted  applause  to  the 
sky  and  set  itself  with  a  will  to  the  task  of  turning 
the  United  States  into  a  war  machine.  The  people 
put  out  the  Stars  and  Stripes  from  their  houses  to 
show  their  spirit.  It  was  a  real  sentiment;  no  mere 
outward  display.  In  "Treasure  Island"  Captain 
Smollett  attacked  by  the  mutineers  in  the  stockade 
ran  up  his  country's  flag  and  refused  to  take  it  in 
even  though  it  drew  the  enemy's  fire.  "My  name 
is  Alexander  Smollett,  I  have  flown  my  Sovereign's 
colours  and  I'll  see  you  to  Davy  Jones."  There  is 
much  in  a  symbol.  The  heart  of  America  plunged 
forth  in  that  show  of  the  Stars  and  Stripes. 

For  the  first  time  in  history  the  American  flag  was 
mingled  with  the  colours  of  Britain;  the  Union  Jack 
on  the  one  side  and  the  Tricolour  of  France  on  the 
other  were  to  be  found  in  quarters  where  for  genera 
tions  the  Union  Jack  was  unknown — and  if  known 
was  disliked.  I  remember  hearing  the  story  of  how 
a  man  in  New  Jersey  was  lynched  some  five  and 
twenty  years  ago  because  on  July  4th  he  ran  up  the 
British  flag  with  the  American.  It  was  hard  to 
realize  this  in  the  autumn  of  1917  as  one  surveyed 
Fifth  Avenue  a  blaze  of  colour  in  which  the  Union  Jack 
was  prominent.  The  American  temperament  never 
displays  its  difference  from  the  English  more  strik- 


America  at  War  111 

ingly  than  in  its  fearlessness  of  its  own  feelings. 
There  has  been  comparatively  little  bunting  shown  in 
Britain  during  the  war.  In  America  not  only  was 
the  national  flag  freely  displayed  on  every  possible 
occasion  and  in  many  cases  hung  out  continuously 
on  buildings  public  and  private,  but  a  further  display 
followed  as  the  men  began  to  be  drafted.  There  was 
devised  a  white  flag  with  a  red  border  and  on  the 
white  ground  were  placed  blue  stars  indicating  the 
number  of  men  who  had  gone  to  service  from  the  par 
ticular  place  which  showed  the  flag.  Private  houses, 
shops,  public  institutions,  clubs,  all  had  these  flags  and 
a  brave  show  they  made.  A  variation  and  extension 
was  in  the  enameled  brooches  and  lapel  pins  indicat 
ing  by  their  stars  the  number  of  those  in  service  from 
the  wearer's  family.  America  went  into  the  war 
sternly  but  with  high  heart,  and  with  something  of 
that  chivalrous  display  which  marked  a  cause  in 
ancient  days  of  knightly  service. 

War  songs  began  to  appear.  They  were  direct  and 
not  oblique  as  in  Britain  where  the  soldiers  adopted 
a  music  hall  ditty  like  "Tipperary"  which  had  no 
possible  relevance  to  battle  efforts.  Nor  did  the  peo 
ple  in  America  take  readily  to  plaintive  melodies  like 
"Keep  the  Home  Fires  Burning,"  which  replaced 
"Tipperary"  as  the  favourite  among  British  soldiers. 
The  ardent  nervous  temperament  required  something 
direct,  something  with  a  lilt  and  a  march  and  a  ring 


112  The  New  America 

about  it.     And  thus  the  popular  places  of  amusement 
rattled  with  such  choruses  as, 

Over  there,  over  there,  send  the  word,  send  the  word,  over 

there, 

That  the  Yanks  are  coming,  the  Yanks  are  coming, 
The  drums  rum-tumming  everywhere, 
So  prepare,  say  a  pray'r,  send  the  word,  send  the  word,  to 

beware. 
We'll  be  over,  we're  coming  over,  and  we  won't  come  back 

till  it's  over  over  there. 

or 

Where  do  we  go  from  here,  boys,  where  do  we  go  from  here? 
Anywhere  from  Harlem  to  a  Jersey  city  pier, 
When  Patty'd  meet  a  pretty  girl,  he'd  whisper  in  her  ear, 
"0  joy,  0  boy,  where  do  we  go  from  here?" 

Indifferent  America  had  vanished  as  though  in 
a  landslide.  And  a  visitor  soon  had  striking  evidence 
of  the  distinctive  temperament  of  the  country.  There 
was  a  mingled  boyishness,  fierceness,  and  intensity 
totally  unknown  in  the  older  nations.  Pro-Germans 
bowed  timidly  under  the  storm.  A  storm  indeed  it 
was.  In  the  cities  a  word  in  sympathy  with  Germany 
in  a  restaurant  would  procure  a  man's  arrest  and 
sharp  punishment.  From  the  West  and  South  came 
news  of  prominent  citizens  who  had  spoken  slight 
ingly  of  the  Allies'  cause  who  were  compelled  pub 
licly  to  kiss  the  Stars  and  Stripes  and  retract  their 
words.  There  was  one  story  of  how  the  convicts 
in  a  big  prison  tarred  and  feathered  a  prominent 


America  at  War  113 

pro-German  among  them — though  how  they  obtained 
the  material  is  a  mystery.  Young  drafted  men  re 
fusing  to  don  the  United  States  uniform  were  promptly 
sentenced  to  twenty-five  years  imprisonment.  Public 
men  and  women  with  a  tendency  to  pacifism,  and 
possibly  pro-Germanism,  simply  found  themselves 
under  arrest  and  sentenced  to  terms  of  up  to  thirty 
years  imprisonment.  There  is  no  nonsense  about 
America  when  she  is  roused. 

At  the  various  times  when  a  week  or  a  fortnight 
was  set  aside  for  subscriptions  either  to  Liberty  Loan 
issues  or  the  Red  Cross  Fund  the  great  cities  were 
in  a  ferment.  Leisureliness  was  gone.  In  New 
York  at  the  start  of  one  of  the  Liberty  Loan  cam 
paigns  cardboard  representations  of  a  bell — the  Lib 
erty  Bell — were  made  by  the  million,  and  in  the 
early  hours  of  the  first  morning  they  were  hung  on 
door  knobs  not  only  of  houses  and  shops  and  offices 
but  on  the  doors  of  flats  and  apartments  in  hundreds 
of  thousands  of  homes;  crowds  of  enthusiastic  boys 
were  enlisted  for  the  work.  There  were  bands  and 
banners  at  street  corners  from  early  morning  till  early 
the  next  morning.  Impassioned  speeches  were  made 
from  the  stage  of  every  theatre,  moving  picture  palace 
and  every  vaudeville  show,  and  clever  orators  both 
men  and  women  extracted  competitive  announcements 
from  individuals  in  the  audiences,  pitting  city  against 
city,  country  against  country  in  the  amount  of  sub- 


114  The  New  America 

scriptions.  Every  office  in  New  York,  large  or  small, 
was  invaded  once,  twice,  or  thrice  in  a  week  by  a 
collector  who  might  be  a  nurse  in  uniform,  a  boy 
scout,  a  sailor  or  a  bank  official;  there  was  no  escape 
for  the  stingy.  At  various  busy  points  in  the  city  a 
large  coffin  on  trestles  on  the  side-walk,  with  nails 
resting  on  the  lid,  was  forced  on  the  attention  of 
passing  crowds  by  collectors,  hammers  in  hand  who 
invited  men  and  women  to  drive  nails  into  "the 
Kaiser's  coffin"  at  the  price  of  a  dollar.  Sums 
amounting  to  millions  of  dollars  for  the  Red  Cross, 
and  billions  of  dollars  for  the  war  loan  were  readily 
obtained.  It  was  a  wonder  where  the  money  came 
from. 

When  the  Government  put  restrictions  on  the  use 
of  fuel  and  light  during  an  exceptionally  cold  winter 
there  was  but  little  grumbling.  And  when  the  coun 
try  was  appealed  to  for  voluntary  food  rationing 
so  that  the  necessary  supplies  might  be  sent  to  the 
Allies  there  was  a  response  which  practically  did 
away  with  the  use  of  white  bread,  and  put  a  sweet- 
loving  nation  to  the  test  of  the  smallest  lump  of 
sugar  in  a  cup  of  coffee. 

In  the  streets  of  Washington  and  New  York  could 
be  seen  each  evening  couples  and  groups  of  British 
and  French  soldiers  and  sailors  (principally  sailors) 
enjoying  themselves  amid  strange  scenes  and  with 
hospitable  hosts.  I  was  in  one  of  the  table-d'hote 


America  at  War  115 

restaurants  in  49th  Street  crowded  with  diners  when 
a  couple  of  French  blue- jackets,  attracted  by  the 
French  name  on  the  sign  outside,  came  in  looking 
rather  at  a  loss  and  perhaps  a  little  shy.  Directly 
the  man  at  the  piano  and  his  companion  with  the 
violin  saw  them  they  struck  up  the  Marseillaise. 
The  whole  of  the  crowded  gathering  rose  to  its  feet 
and  sang  the  chorus,  while  the  French  soldiers,  stag 
gered  at  this  blast  of  welcome,  were  conducted  to 
a  table  by  the  proprietor,  and  had  set  before  them 
the  best  the  establishment  could  provide  at  no  cost 
to  themselves. 

There  was  no  mincing  of  expression  among  the 
ordinary  people  whether  with  regard  to  their  likes 
or  dislikes.  A  great  blazing  electrical  device  over 
the  door  of  a  moving  picture  theatre  on  Broadway 
in  its  most  crowded  section  displayed  as  the  legend 
of  its  evening  entertainment  "To  Hell  with  the  Kaiser." 
Here  is  the  copy  of  a  printed  notice  apparently  spe 
cially  directed  towards  the  millions  of  aliens  which 
was  prominently  shown  over  some  business  establish 
ment  in  New  York,  and  for  all  I  know  in  other  cities 
also: 

"This  is  an  American  house. 

You  earn  a  better  living  here  and  live  better  than  you  ever 

did  before. 

Don't  criticize  our  President,  our  Government  or  our  Allies. 
If  you  don't  like  the  way  we  are  running  our  Government, 
Go  back  to  your  own  country, 


116  The  New  America 

If  you  are  just  a  natural  rebel,  or  if  you  have  no  country 
then  go  to  Hell." 

I  found  in  the  cities  and  villages  of  the  Middle 
West  no  resentment  at  the  war  but  a  steady  acceptance 
of  it  as  a  national  trial  and  a  duty  to  be  performed. 
There  was  seriousness  but  no  repining.  The  respon 
sibility  of  Americanism  was  almost  a  religion  among 
the  quiet  work-a-day-people  with  whom  I  made  it 
my  business  to  mix  from  time  to  time. 

A  spectacle  never  to  be  obliterated  was  the  first 
parade  down  Fifth  Avenue  of  thousands  of  soldiers 
on  their  way  to  the  camps  preparatory  for  France. 
They  were  taller  than  our  English  lads,  not  quite  so 
thick  set,  with  lean  faces,  and  nervous  muscular 
bodies.  They  differed  too  from  the  British  in  respect 
of  what  may  be  called  thoughtfulness,  what  to  an 
imaginative  mind  reflected  a  touch  of  the  old  puritan 
spirit.  The  English  lads  set  with  a  touch  of  square 
ness  in  their  faces  marched  off  with  a  joke  and  a  rip 
pling  smile  even  to  the  serious  business  of  war,  and  I 
dare  say  that  attitude  represents  to  a  certain  extent 
a  temperament  which  includes  reserve  as  one  of  its 
first  qualities.  The  pulse  beat  quicker,  and  at  mo 
ments  it  was  not  easy  to  speak,  as  one  watched  those 
gallant  young  Americans  so  lithe,  so  full  of  health, 
going  forward  to  offer  their  lives  at  their  country's 
demand  on  a  foreign  battle  field. 

One  of  the  effects  of  the  war  at  Washington  was 


America  at  War  117 

to  produce  not  only  a  famine  of  offices,  speedily 
met  by  the  erection  of  vast  new  Government  build 
ings  but  also  a  famine  of  hotels.  Persons  with  busi 
ness  in  the  capital  frequently  had  to  stay  at  Baltimore, 
an  hour's  railway  journey  away  because  they  could 
not  get  accommodations  at  the  seat  of  Government. 
What  some  regard  as  a  minor  tragedy  and  others  as 
an  undisguised  blessing  fell  upon  Washington  during 
war  time,  namely  the  prohibition  of  the  sale  of  alco 
hol.  "A  dull  place  has  become  duller,"  said  one 
American  scoffer,  to  me.  But  a  more  just  estimation 
would  be  perhaps  that  the  laws  of  revenue  and  the 
laws  of  luxury  on  the  one  hand  were  compensated 
for  by  the  trade  of  war  time  on  the  other,  by  the  gath 
ering  of  great  men  and  small  men  from  all  parts  of 
the  country,  by  the  increase  of  population  amounting 
to  twenty  per  cent,  in  the  course  of  a  year.  I  remem 
ber  visiting  Washington  three  months  after  prohibi 
tion  was  in  force  and  calling  to  see  a  genial  friend 
of  Irish  descent  who  received  me  with  what  I  felt  was 
an  increase  of  his  usual  warmth.  He  expressed  his 
pleasure  at  seeing  me  in  a  way  which  was  more  than 
usually  gratifying.  I  was  really  flattered.  There 
was  a  pause  after  a  minute  or  two  and  then  he  said 
appealingly  and  expectantly,  "Have  you  brought  any 
thing  with  you?"  I  was  humiliated,  not  so  much  at 
the  blow  to  my  self-esteem,  as  at  my  lack  of  foresight 
in  neglecting  to  provide  for  the  emergency. 


118  The  New  America 

President  Wilson  progressed  from  stages  of  respect 
to  those  of  admiration  and  presently  to  high  popular 
acclaim.  He  was  recognized  as  a  great  possession 
of  the  American  people,  who  it  seemed,  were  not 
unappreciative  of  the  fact  that  he  was  also  regarded 
by  the  allied  people  as  one  of  the  great  assets  of  the 
cause.  The  President  came  to  New  York  once  or 
twice.  I  should  not  like  to  be  asked  to  decide  whether 
he  had  his  greatest  popular  following, — when  he  went 
to  see  "Polly  with  a  Past"  at  a  theatre,  or  went  on 
Sunday  to  the  Old  Brick  Presbyterian  Church  to  attend 
service. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

SHIPS   AND   AEROPLANES 

To  a  visitor  in  America  there  has  been  nothing  so 
typically  dramatic  in  the  awakening  of  the  giant  as 
the  gesture  with  which  she  set  about  to  make  ships. 
That  the  colossal  and  continuing  output  of  mercantile 
vessels  would  help  to  turn  the  world  into  a  different 
place  when  peace  comes  again  was  an  incidental.  The 
consequences  during  the  war  and  after  the  war  were 
both  in  my  mind  when  I  travelled  along  the  eastern 
coast  and  saw  what  had  been  done  after  six  months 
in  the  construction  of  a  new  industry.  I  had  a  full 
untrammelled  view  of  the  genius  which  in  great  emer 
gency  comes  forth  from  beneath  its  occasional  dis 
guises. 

It  had  been  the  practice  to  bring  sheets  of  steel 
to  the  water  front,  and  there  fashion  them  for  the 
sides  and  interior  of  the  ships.  But  now  ships  were 
wanted  in  a  number  previously  unheard  of,  and  it 
occurred  to  the  agile  mind  of  the  Americans  to 
utilize  the  great  steel  works  in  the  interior  of  the 
country  in  order  to  manufacture  the  parts  of  the 
vessel  where  special  facilities  existed  for  the  work, 

119 


120  The  New  America 

and  to  bring  them  down  to  the  coast  and  fit  them 
together  there.  This  meant,  of  course,  there  would 
still  be  a  great  amount  of  work  to  be  done  at  the 
shipways  but  it  would  be  enormously  less  than  un 
der  the  previous  system.  I  went  to  Newark  where 
a  new  shipyard  was  to  consist  of  twenty-eight  ship- 
ways.  Twenty  of  them  were  already  finished,  and 
on  the  afternoon  I  arrived  ten  keels  were  laid 
and  before  I  left  the  yard  this  was  increased  to 
eleven  keels.  The  ship  on  the  first  way  was  well 
advanced  towards  completion,  and  I  walked  on  the 
deck.  Fifty  to  a  hundred  feet  behind  the  ship  were 
big  piles  of  steel  work  in  all  kinds  of  shapes,  dotted 
with  rivet  holes,  for  all  the  world  like  parts  of  a 
child's  jig-saw  puzzle.  They  were  the  sections  that 
were  to  be  rivetted  together.  I  stood  on  the  deck  of 
number  one  ship  and  looked  down  into  its  interior, 
and  it  was  like  looking  into  the  workings  of  a  clock. 
It  is  no  simple  matter  to  build  a  ship.  I  glanced 
along  the  line  of  shipways  by  the  water  front,  and 
they  seemed  to  me  to  reach  beyond  sight.  That  was 
partly  the  effect  of  the  busy  activity,  the  noise  of 
rivetters,  the  movement  of  men,  the  network  of  work 
ing  cranes  and  machinery,  in  a  word  of  a  pulsing 
soul.  Optimism,  energy  and  organizing  verve  radi 
ated  from  the  Vice-President  who  accompanied  me, 
and  his  spirit  was  found  in  all  parts  of  the  yard.  The 
ten  thousand  workmen  there  had  founded  a  newspaper 


Ships  and  Aeroplanes  121 

of  their  own.  It  was  called  "Speed  Up,"  and  con 
tained  all  kinds  of  news  and  stories  and  pieces  of 
verse  contributed  by  the  men.  Here  are  two  sam 
ples: 

HUNKA  TIN 

You  may  talk  about  your  voitures, 
When  you're  sitting  round  the  quarters, 

But  when  it  comes  to  getting  wounded  in, 
Take  a  little  tip  from  me, 
Let  those  heavy  motors  be, 

Pin  your  faith  to  Henry  Ford's  old  Hunka  Tin. 
Give  her  essence,  give  her  1'eau, 
Crank  her  up,  and  let  her  go, 

You  back-firm',  spark-plug  foulin'  Hunka  Tin. 

CHORUS. 

Yes,  Tin,  Tin,  Tin. 

You  exasperating  puzzle,  Hunka  Tin. 

I've  abused  you  and  I've  flayed  you, 

But  by  Henry  Ford,  who  made  you, 
You  are  better  than  a  big  car,  Hunka  Tin. 

BUILDERS  OF  SHIPS 

Lay  me  a  keel,  and  build  me  a  framework, 

Build  it  of  steel  with  rivets  to  hold; 
Strong  be  the  plates  and  true  be  the  workmen, 

Fervent  as  iron  when  red  in  the  mould. 

Out  of  the  ways,  then,  launch  me  a  vessel, 
Proud  as  the  proudest,  impatient  to  be 

Clearing  the  pathway,  the  sea  road  to  England, 
Speeding  to  France  for  dear  Liberty. 


122  The  New  America 

A  journey  to  near  Boston  took  me  to  a  ship-building 
yard,  long  established,  but  which  the  needs  of  the  war 
were  intensively  developing.  Here  were  great  mer 
chantmen  being  erected,  and  lines  of  submarines  in 
dry-dock  strung  out  like  huge  mackerel.  In  one  part 
of  the  yard  where  a  month  or  two  before  there  were 
ten  feet  of  water  on  swamp  ground  there  had  been 
formed  a  solid  platform  of  earth  and  piles  on  which 
destroyers  were  rapidly  being  built.  This  yard  has 
a  corresponding  establishment  on  the  Pacific  coast, 
and  the  foremen  from  the  two  yards  had  a  bet  of  ten 
thousand  dollars  between  them  as  to  which  yard 
would  turn  out  the  most  ships  by  the  end  of  the  year. 
A  mile  or  two  away  an  entirely  new  shipyard  was 
being  built  up,  and  thousands  of  men  were  swarming 
over  skeleton  erections,  hammer  and  rivet  and  drill 
in  hand.  There  was  one  shed  practically  completed. 
It  was  of  glass  and  iron  about  one  hundred  feet  in 
height  and  sixteen  acres  in  extent,  all  under  one 
roof.  Here  it  was  that  I  saw  first  the  interesting 
operation  familiar  in  the  building  of  sky-scrapers, 
namely  the  continuous  supply  of  white  hot  rivets  or 
bolts  to  mid  air.  These  cannot  be  heated  by  the  men 
who  are  a  hundred  feet  or  so  above  the  ground  seated 
on  a  swinging  strip,  and  they  are  made  hot  in  a 
little  furnace  down  below  and  are  then  tossed  up 
aloft.  It  is  a  fascinating  sight.  With  a  long  pair 
of  pinchers  the  man  on  the  ground  extracts  from  the 


Ships  and  Aeroplanes  123 

furnace  the  white  hot  rivet,  and  with  an  apparently 
careless,  but  quite  accurate  jerk,  projects  it 
through  the  air  towards  the  men  up  on  the  building. 
It  is  like  the  shooting  of  a  meteor.  Up  above  a  man 
makes  a  casual  sweep  of  a  little  basket  and  the  rivet 
is  caught, — or  missed, — as  the  case  may  be.  There 
is  always  a  thrill  in  the  onlooker  as  to  whether  that 
stream  of  white  hot  rivets  may  not  hurt  one  or  other 
of  the  men  to  whom  they  are  directed.  It  is  hard  to 
take  one's  eyes  from  the  operation.  None  of  those 
concerned  are  ever  perturbed.  But  some  time,  some 
where,  some  man  must  be  hurt  by  one  of  those  deadly 
incandescent  missiles.  Even  the  best  of  cricketers 
gets  a  nasty  blow  from  the  ball  sometimes.  The  spec 
tacle  is  one  which  for  a  thrill  cannot  be  equalled  in 
the  entertainment  on  any  New  York  stage. 

Hog  Island  is  one  of  the  much  talked  of  war 
incidents  of  the  United  States.  Eight  hundred  acres 
of  flat  swamp  and  marsh  land  on  the  banks  of  the 
Delaware  near  Philadelphia  have  become  famous  as 
Hog  Island.  I  went  there  six  months  after  an  army 
of  men  had  been  at  work  on  its  natural  desolation 
and  emptiness.  I  found  it  midway  in  transformation. 
Fifty  shipways  were  to  be  constructed  on  the  edge 
of  the  Delaware,  and  the  program  included  the 
launching  of  fifty-two  ships  before  the  end  of  the 
year.  But  to  get  the  proper  perspective  of  Hog 
Island  one  must  thrust  the  imagination  forward  and 


124  The  New  America 

picture  it  in  the  following  year,  discharging  into  the 
Delaware  an  unbroken  succession  of  great  ships,  sev 
eral  a  week. 

Hog  Island  may  in  the  future  be  the  leading  world 
depot  where  ocean  going  ships  will  be  fitted  together 
like  children's  toys.  All  these  reflections  and  fore 
casts  came  upon  me  afterwards.  An  automobile  ride 
which,  as  soon  as  we  left  the  city  behind  us,  was 
Siberian  in  its  bleakness  and  monotony — through 
windswept  flats  over  an  extemporized  road,  miles  in 
length,  which  for  all  the  outlook  there  was  ahead 
might  have  been  leading  to  a  desert,  took  us  by  a  sud 
den  twist  in  the  road  through  some  undulations,  then 
over  an  almost  imperceptible  stream.  I  was  at  Hog 
Island.  The  first  impression  was  of  an  earthquake, 
and  of  attempts  to  produce  order  out  of  chaos.  Con 
fusion  and  activity  spread  everywhere  to  the  limit  of 
the  eye.  Boarded  roads  ran  through  morasses  of 
mud,  gave  access  to  labryinths  of  wooden  barracks, 
towering  cranes,  gangs  of  men,  hustling  locomotives, 
mountains  of  stripped  tree  trunks,  packed  masses  of 
steel  in  every  conceivable  size  and  shape.  To  the 
uninstructed  eye  crudity  and  disordered  effort  lay 
over  all  the  world.  Then  came  relief.  I  was  taken 
to  the  top  floor  of  an  office  building  right  in  the 
middle  of  the  grounds  where  from  a  glass  encased 
turret  one  could  survey  the  eight  hundred  acres  of 
Hog  Island  in  a  bird's  eye  view.  A  square  faced 


Ships  and  Aeroplanes  125 

chief  pointed  out  with  his  finger  the  parts  of  the 
establishment  and  their  functions.  Away  went  the 
chaos.  He  was  like  a  commander  in  a  battle  dis 
playing  from  an  eminence  the  co-ordinating  opera 
tions  of  his  troops  on  a  wide-spread  field  beneath. 
The  magnitude  of  Hog  Island  grew  upon  me.  One 
realized  American  daring.  Here  were  strips  of  rail 
way  lines  where  material  was  received,  here  were 
branches  to  other  groups  of  lines  where  orders  were 
delivered  with  material  for  the  use  of  certain  ways, 
here  were  great  workshops  in  carefully  arranged 
order  for  their  special  activities.  Every  crane  that  I 
could  see,  every  automobile,  every  intersecting  excava 
tion,  every  pile  of  material,  all  the  barracks  in  assem 
bled  places,  were  working  towards  a  smooth  running 
operation  as  a  whole.  It  was  an  illuminating  idea, 
that  glass  turret. 

I  asked  about  the  workmen.  I  learned  that  there 
were  twenty  thousand  altogether,  most  of  them  en 
gaged  at  that  moment  in  building  the  Island  into  a 
huge  machine,  although  later  they  would  be  instructed 
and  drafted  into  the  actual  shipbuilding,  which  when 
in  complete  working  order  would  employ  thirty  thou 
sand.  The  twenty  thousand  men  were  drawn  from 
all  parts.  There  were  Italians,  and  Mexicans,  ne 
groes,  Greeks,  and  Indians.  They  were  paid  well. 
Even  the  unskilled  labourer  would  earn  $3.85  a  day. 
His  living  expenses  including  his  board  and  all  his 


126  The  New  America 

food  would  cost  him  about  $1.00  a  day  on  the  spot. 
Food  was  provided  and  there  were  games  in  the  club 
rooms  and  comfortable  chairs  for  the  men  when  they 
were  off  duty.  Nothing  was  omitted  to  stimulate 
efficiency.  All  over  the  shipyard  one  found  notices, 
"The  sooner  we  finish  these  ships  the  sooner  the  war 
will  be  ended." 

I  came  back  to  New  York,  tired  with  night  journeys 
but  with  a  comfortable  feeling  that  if  all  round  the 
American  coast  there  were  to  be  found  establish 
ments  such  as  I  had  opportunity  of  seeing  within 
a  few  hundred  miles,  Germany's  submarines  would 
have  to  be  as  thick  as  ants  on  an  ant  hill  to  cope 
with  the  fleets  of  ships  which  America  a  few  months 
hence  would  be  discharging  each  week  into  the  ocean. 
I  wondered  what  was  going  to  happen  to  all  the 
ships  after  the  war  was  over. 

From  ships  I  went  to  see  aeroplanes.  At  Dayton 
I  was  shown  the  instruments  of  air  warfare,  and 
stood  side  by  side  with  Mr.  Orville  Wright  in  the 
flying  field  while  the  latest  war  model  did  tricks  in  the 
air  above  us,  standing  on  its  head,  so  it  seemed,  throw 
ing  itself  backward,  pretending  to  fall  a  thousand 
feet,  recovering  itself  and  then  shooting  past  three 
hundred  feet  above  our  heads  at  the  rate  of  a  hun 
dred  miles  an  hour. 

"What  is  the  essential  difference  between  these 
machines  and  the  early  aeroplanes?"  I  asked. 


Ships  and  Aeroplanes  127 

"Little  enough  in  fundamentals,"  said  Mr.  Wright. 
"The  main  factors  are  still  the  same."  I  extracted 
from  Mr.  Wright  the  story  of  the  hour  when  he  on  be 
half  of  human  beings  in  general  made  the  first  flight 
into  the  air. 

"My  brother  Wilbur  and  I  had  been  experimenting 
with  gliders  on  the  sides  of  hills  for  some  time,"  he 
said.  "We  had  devoted  ourselves  to  exhaustive  cal 
culations  with  regard  to  progress  through  the  air, 
calculations  which,  of  course,  were  increased  and  mul 
tiplied  as  our  experiments  progressed.  Finally,  we 
built  an  airship  and  put  a  motor  in  it,  with  a  view  to 
trying  to  make  a  flight.  We  went  down  to  North 
Carolina  on  the  shore.  It  was  in  the  winter  on  De 
cember  17, 1903,  that  we  made  the  venture  down  there. 
We  got  the  machine  out  in  the  morning — I  remember 
it  was  about  10.30.  There  was  nobody  about,  but 
while  we  were  fixing  up  things  a  man  made  his 
appearance,  attracted  by  the  unusual  sight  of  the 
aeroplane.  'What  is  this?'  he  asked.  I  told  him 
it  was  a  flying  machine.  'Do  you  expect  to  fly  with 
it?'  he  said  smilingly.  'Yes,'  I  answered;  'that 
is  if  the  conditions  are  favourable.'  'Oh,  yes,'  he 
said,  'your  machine  will  fly — if  the  conditions  are 
favourable.9  The  intonation  made  his  meaning  per 
fectly  clear.  He  went  off  and  left  us,  apparently  hav 
ing  no  time  to  waste  on  such  useless  fads. 

"The  moment  came  when  we  were  to  start  the  ma- 


128  The  New  America 

chine.  It  was  a  question  who  should  make  the  first 
trip,  Wilbur  or  I.  We  tossed  a  penny  as  to  who 
should  be  the  first.  Wilbur  won.  He  got  into  the 
machine,  but  after  a  lot  of  trying  we  couldn't  start 
it.  We  spent  some  time  in  adjustment,  and  then  I 
took  my  turn.  The  machine  began  to  rise  in  an 
undulating  kind  of  way,  then  it  got  clear  off  the 
ground,  some  fifteen  feet  or  more,  and  made  a  flight 
of  about  one  hundred  and  fifty  feet.  That  was  the 
first  flight.  Later  in  the  day  we  had  longer  trips." 

I  asked  Mr.  Wright  if  he  had  any  idea  when  he 
and  his  brother  were  trying  to  make  the  flying  ma 
chine  as  to  their  eventual  use  in  war. 

"From  the  very  first  the  idea  of  their  use  in  that 
way  was  in  my  mind." 

I  asked  him  if  in  the  course  of  his  experiments 
he  had  read  a  story  by  H.  G.  Wells  in  which  the 
author  brought  into  being  flights  of  aircraft,  demon 
strating  their  destructiveness,  and  going  so  far  as  to 
visualize  air  battles  over  American  territory.  Mr. 
Wright  pondered  for  a  moment.  "No,"  he  said; 
"I  heard  of  the  story  since.  I  don't  think  I  have 
read  it  even  now."  He  spoke  apologetically. 

I  went  to  Buffalo  and  saw  another  huge  factory. 
There  as  in  Dayton  messenger  boys  in  the  factory 
were  progressing  over  the  wooden  floors  on  roller 
skates  in  order  to  save  time.  It  was  a  real  piece  of 
American  hustle.  If  it  was  interesting  to  a  spectator 


Ships  and  Aeroplanes  129 

it  was  also  very  exhilarating  for  the  boys.  My  one 
general  conclusion  was  that  in  skill,  in  material,  in 
labour,  in  organization  America  had  facilities  to  turn 
out  fleets  of  aeroplanes  with  no  less  speed  and  volume 
than  she  could  turn  out  ships.  I  look  into  the  future 
and  see  that  the  ships  and  aeroplanes  of  America 
may  be  one  of  the  governing  factors  of  the  world  not 
only  in  war  but  in  peace.  I  saw  no  rushing,  hustling 
operations  such  as  is  sometimes  conceived  by  an 
Englishman  of  Americans  at  work  on  a  special  object. 
I  saw  manufacturers  and  workmen  waiting  for  Wash 
ington  and  the  soldiers  at  the  front  to  determine  the 
details  of  the  best  kind  of  battle  machine  so  that 
they  could  be  turned  out  not  by  the  thousand  but  by 
the  tens  of  thousands.  Of  course  a  great  many  ma 
chines  were  being  made  but  the  impression  left  on 
me  was  that  they  were  but  a  fraction  of  what  could 
be  achieved. 

America's  shrewdness  is  sometimes  minimized 
against  her  rapidity.  She  can  be  slow  when  slowness 
is  an  essential  of  success.  For  long  vision  you  must 
have  the  proper  focus.  The  magnitude  of  America's 
task  had  to  be  met  by  the  magnitude  of  America's 
power.  You  cannot  set  the  earth  a-spinning  by  the 
quick  turn  of  a  crank  handle. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

CHICAGO   AND   DETROIT 

AN  expedition  to  the  Middle  West  to  see  and  hear 
what  the  industrial  districts  were  like  in  war-time  left 
on  me  the  sensations  of  the  moving  picture.  It  was 
at  eight  o'clock  one  morning  that  our  train  approached 
Chicago,  and  looking  out  of  the  window  I  saw  quite 
close  to  the  tracks  waves  mounting  high  against  lines 
of  piles,  and  an  expanse  of  water  to  the  horizon,  which 
for  all  the  world  was  like  the  English  Channel  under 
a  south  westerly  gale.  Really  it  was  Lake  Michigan. 
I  had  heard  terrible  tales  about  the  gloom  and  other 
disadvantages  of  Chicago  but  my  first  real  sight  of  it 
from  a  taxicab  was  an  esplanade  by  the  water  front 
miles  in  length  with  solid  and  handsome  buildings  on 
one  side  as  far  as  the  eye  could  see.  It  had  a  kind  of 
family  resemblance  to  Kings  Road  at  Brighton,  though 
less  sparkling  and  less  crowded,  as  becomes  a  great 
business  centre  compared  with  a  holiday  place.  But 
the  miles  of  open  water  front,  the  buildings  massed 
behind  had  a  rather  home-like  air  to  an  Englishman 
who  is  familiar  with  so  many  somewhat  similar  out 
looks  in  his  sea-surrounded  island.  Streets  humming 

130 


Chicago  and  Detroit  131 

with  traffic  ran  from  the  water  front  in  to  the  heart 
of  the  city,  and  up  one  of  these  we  turned  to  a  big 
hotel  where  the  courtesy  of  waiters  and  attendants 
was  only  equalled  by  their  slowness  in  doing  things. 
Within  a  few  hours  I  was  under  escort  to  the  stock 
yards,  one  of  the  sights  not  only  of  Chicago  but  of 
America,  and  presently  I  stood  on  a  long  wooden 
bridge  and  surveyed  all  around  spreading  acres, — 
it  may  have  been  square  miles, — of  cattle  pens  and 
enclosures  with  connecting  passages,  and  on  the  rim 
the  great  factories  for  turning  the  live  animals  into 
meat.  Riding  through  the  enclosures  were  men  on 
horseback,  sometimes  by  themselves,  sometimes  in 
pairs.  They  were  the  agents  for  the  farmers  who 
had  sent  live  stock,  and  the  buyers  for  the  big  packing 
houses,  and  the  bargaining  was  going  on  under  the 
open  eye.  A  deal  was  settled  by  a  crack  of  the  whip. 
As  I  passed  along  the  overhead  platforms  I  saw  in 
one  of  the  yards  a  lonely  steer  with  long  horns,  pacing 
up  and  down  like  a  wild  animal  paces  up  and  down 
in  its  cage  in  the  zoo.  "Mad,"  said  my  guide.  "They 
get  like  that  sometimes  after  a  long  journey.  We 
have  to  keep  them  apart  then  because  they  become 
dangerous."  I  shall  remember  that  solitary  wild- 
eyed  long-horned  steer  making  his  swift  mechanical 
passage  round  his  yard  long  after  I  have  forgotten 
astounding  figures  of  production.  Presently  in  one 
of  the  buildings  I  witnessed  the  nasty  scene  of  syste- 


132  The  New  America 

matic  slaughter.  Bullocks,  sheep,  pigs  proceeded  in 
single  line  with  automatic  regularity  towards  a  de 
partment  where  blood  ran  like  water  continuously. 
I  had  as  a  companion  a  war  correspondent  who  had 
been  for  three  years  on  the  western  front  and  had 
seen  all  manner  of  terrible  sights.  He  turned  his 
eyes  away  in  the  slaughter  houses.  He  resolutely 
refused  to  see  what  was  going  on.  The  most  unpleas 
ant  memory  I  have  of  the  business  is  the  grin  on 
the  face  of  a  negro  whose  duty  it  was  to  stun  the 
sentenced  cattle  with  a  long  hammer  before  they  were 
dispatched.  It  was  a  real  relief  to  get  away  to  an 
other  part  of  the  establishment  where  they  were  grind 
ing  up  peanuts  into  the  most  delicious  looking  butter, 
and  producing  other  manufactured  eatables  which  go 
under  the  name  of  groceries.  My  limbs  were  aching 
not  with  physical  fatigue  only  as  I  came  out  of  those 
vast  stock-yards.  I  had  a  strong  warming  of  the 
heart  towards  vegetarians. 

I  went  to  see  a  picture  of  a  different  kind  on  the 
next  day  at  a  spot  about  an  hour's  railway  journey 
from  Chicago  by  the  side  of  Lake  Michigan.  It  was 
a  place  where  tens  of  thousands  of  young  Americans 
who  have  never  seen  the  sea  were  being  trained  to 
be  sailors.  When  they  emerge  from  the  Middle  West 
to  the  Atlantic  or  the  Pacific  in  order  to  smell  salt 
water  for  the  first  time  they  are  completely  equipped 
for  ocean  work,  fit  to  match  the  best  sailors  in  the 


Chicago  and  Detroit  133 

world.  The  secret,  of  course,  is  that  they  have  a 
great  lake  to  train  on,  and  the  lake  reproduces  nearly 
all  the  conditions  to  be  found  on  the  ocean.  The  Great 
Lakes  Naval  Training  Station  in  peace  time  had  about 
a  thousand  men  under  tuition.  When  I  visited  it  there 
were  in  training  over  twenty  thousand  men  with  volun 
teer  recruits  coming  in  at  the  rate  of  a  thousand  a 
week.  Park-land,  hundreds  of  acres  in  extent,  front 
ing  on  to  the  lake  side,  gives  opportunity  for  open 
air  training  of  a  dozen  kinds,  while  spacious  build 
ings  are  available  for  such  indoor  work  as  air-plane 
construction,  and  repair  and  the  necessities  of  navi 
gation.  It  was  on  Sunday  afternoon  when  I  was 
there,  fine  and  sunny,  and  throughout  the  grounds 
there  were  many  visitors.  With  a  whimsical  smile 
the  young  officer  who  was  going  around  with  me  said 
that  one  of  the  problems  was  to  regulate  the  influx 
of  girl  sweethearts,  sweethearts  in  being  or  sweet 
hearts  potential.  Sailor  boys  are  a  great  attraction 
but  so  far  as  I  could  judge  from  a  casual  observation 
of  the  couples  and  groups  in  the  grounds  the  attrac 
tion  was  mutual.  Let  me  make  my  salute  to  those 
young  sailors  so  obviously  keen,  so  fresh  and  en 
ergetic.  They  are  under  training  for  three  months, 
training  which  is  not  surpassed  in  the  world,  that  of 
the  American  naval  officer.  Generations  of  new  men 
were  being  turned  out  by  that  three  months'  training 
at  the  Great  Lakes  Naval  Training  Station,  not  only 


134  The  New  America 

new  men  but  very  fine  men.  Classes  of  them  will 
be  utilized  in  managing  the  vast  mercantile  fleet  of 
America. 

A  two  hundred  mile  journey  west  to  Rock  Island 
Arsenal  on  the  Mississippi,  swelling  under  war  pres 
sure  and  highly  efficient  superintendence  to  a  huge 
military  manufacturing  depot,  remains  in  my  mind 
not  only  for  its  national  importance  but  because  my 
visit  afforded  me  at  least  one  sidelight,  that  had  noth 
ing  to  do  with  the  war.  I  was  in  the  State  of  Iowa, 
which  is  dry,  only  I  did  not  know  it.  A  long  fatiguing 
journey  had  inclined  me  for  a  glass  of  claret  with  my 
dinner,  but  my  request  in  that  direction  was  met  with 
the  refusal  of  a  law-abiding  waitress  who  seemed  to 
reflect  a  puritan  aspect  in  her  amazement  at  my 
request.  After  dinner  I  went  from  the  dining  room 
into  the  lounge  of  the  hotel  with  a  stranger's  fear  that 
I  should  not  be  able  to  get  anything  to  smoke.  But 
I  found  not  only  a  cigar  store  in  the  hotel  but  means 
other  than  cash  for  the  buying  of  goods.  Two  sets 
of  dice  were  there,  one  plain  dice,  one  poker  dice,  and 
you  were  invited  to  gamble  for  what  you  wanted.  If 
you  won  you  paid  a  purely  nominal  price  for  your 
goods,  and  if  you  lost  the  nominal  price  was  taken 
from  you  without  any  return.  It  was  quite  easy  to 
lose  money.  One  cannot  get  strong  drink  in  Iowa, 
but  one  may  at  least  get  other  little  excitements. 

Come  away  back  to  Detroit  where  I  saw  the  man- 


Chicago  and  Detroit  135 

ufacture  of  the  much  discussed  Liberty  motor,  a  sight 
which  could  not  inform  the  non-expert  eye  as  to  its 
qualities  but  which  was  at  least  impressive  as  a 
mechanical  spectacle.  I  went  into  a  field  where  the 
testing  sheds  were  erected,  dozens  of  them,  scores  of 
them  in  long  lines,  I  wouldn't  like  even  to  guess  at 
the  number.  Here,  sheltered  on  a  stalwart  platform 
surrounded  by  testing  apparatus  of  various  kinds  and 
watched  by  an  engineer  from  a  special  little  cabinet, 
was  one  of  these  sober  grey  complicated  compact 
masses  of  machinery.  To  it  was  added  a  propeller 
similar  in  its  weight  and  air  resistance  to  that  used 
in  the  flying  machines.  I  stood  at  the  end  of  one 
of  the  open  sheds  while  the  propeller  was  revolving 
under  the  stimulus  of  the  Liberty  motor.  The  noise 
was  that  of  a  thousand  railway  trains,  and  it  was 
accompanied  by  a  hurricane  which  made  it  necessary 
to  plant  one's  feet  very  firmly  and  wide  apart  on  the 
ground,  and  to  hold  one's  hat.  For  hours  afterward 
the  vibration  of  that  machine  sang  in  my  head;  I 
was  even  a  little  deaf  till  the  next  day.  The 
mechanic  in  blue  overalls,  with  clean  shaven  face,  and 
disordered  hair  who  superintended  each  one  of  these 
experiments  was  like  a  spirit  from  another  world  rid 
ing  on  a  thunder  storm. 

They  test  these  motors  in  all  kinds  of  ways,  test 
them  for  hours  at  a  stretch  with  revolutions  per  minute 
which  stagger  the  imagination,  test  them  occasionally 


136  The  New  America 

to  a  point,  deliberately  reached,  in  which  the  machine 
is  dismembered  by  the  force  developed.  After  two 
or  three  or  four  tests  the  Liberty  motor  is  taken  to 
pieces  and  examined  part  by  part,  screw  by  screw, 
examined  by  the  naked  eye,  by  touch,  by  magnifying 
glass  and  by  testing  acids,  and  all  of  this  is  done 
not  by  ordinary  workmen  but  by  highly  skilled 
experts.  I  am  no  judge  of  the  merits  of  the  Lib 
erty  motor,  but  this  at  least  can  be  said,  that  no 
man's  life  could  be  imperilled  in  the  air  for  want 
of  skill  or  care  in  its  manufacture.  It  was  the  same 
afternoon  that  I  went  and  saw  another  wonderful 
thing,  namely  the  miracle  known  as  Ford's  factory. 
I  regard  it  as  one  of  the  sights  of  the  world.  Here 
is  an  establishment  which  employs  thirty-four  thou 
sand  men,  no  man  of  whom  after  six  months  service 
receives  less  than  five  dollars  a  day — obtaining  up 
to  that  time  three  dollars  and  fifty  cents.  Through 
out  the  whole  of  the  previous  year  only  two  men  had 
been  discharged  because  it  is  a  rule  of  the  factory 
that  if  a  man  is  not  suitable  for  one  job  he  is  put 
in  some  other  position  for  which  he  is  better  adapted. 
I  saw  how  the  Ford  motor  car  is  manufactured. 
There  is  a  bench,  breast-high,  winding  its  way 
through  hundreds  of  yards  of  the  factory,  and  along 
that  bench  at  intervals  of  a  yard  on  either  side  stand 
workmen.  Above  the  bench  within  reach  run  for 
ward-moving  belts  containing  various  parts  of  the  mo- 


Chicago  and  Detroit  137 

tor  car.  The  nucleus  of  the  car,  about  the  size  of  a 
bushel  basket,  is  placed  on  the  bench  in  front  of  the 
first  of  the  men,  and  by  means  of  a  travelling  car 
riage  passes  on  a  slow  but  continuous  journey  be 
tween  the  two  lines.  Each  man  does  something  to 
that  nucleus,  or  adds  something  as  it  passes,  and  by 
the  time  it  has  traversed  over  the  winding  line  it  has 
been  built  up  by  the  hundreds  of  workmen  into  prac 
tically  a  complete  car.  And  these  cars  follow  each 
other  at  intervals  of  seconds  only.  I  went  into  an 
other  part  of  the  factory  where  the  genius  of  Mr. 
Ford  was  constructing  a  new  submarine  destroyer 
which  contains  improvements  not  only  in  construc 
tion  but  in  material.  To  the  uninstructed  eye  it 
looks  like  a  big  ship.  Conceive  the  impression  made 
by  the  sober  statement  that  Mr.  Ford  intended  to  turn 
these  out  at  the  rate  of  two  a  day.  He  is  a  won 
derful  man.  He  is  also  a  good  American.  Mr. 
Ford,  be  it  remembered,  was  a  leading  pacifist  who 
wanted  to  stop  the  war  before  his  country  entered  into 
it.  Afterwards  he  sought  to  stop  it  by  seeing  his 
country  victorious,  and  was  doing  everything  possible 
to  help  produce  that  truly  inevitable  result. 

When  I  came  back  to  New  York  I  was  in  some  doubt 
as  to  which  day  to  make  the  journey.  I  took  the 
first  of  two  alternatives.  The  train  on  the  second  day 
was  dismantled  by  a  landslide  mid-way  and  there 
was  one  death  and  some  people  injured.  I  congrat- 


138  The  New  America 

ulated  myself  on  missing  at  least  one  American  ex 
perience.  From  various  causes  I  was  beginning  to 
glimpse  the  power  and  temperament  of  the  American 
people. 


CHAPTER  XV 

ENGLAND  THROUGH  A  TELESCOPE 

THE  American  in  England  will  soon  find  contrasts 
with  his  own  country,  and  while  all  of  them  will  be 
strange,  some  of  them  will  not  be  unpleasant,  although 
he  will  naturally  prefer  the  other  ways  of  his  home 
land.  Let  me  tell  in  a  few  sentences  the  unaccus 
tomed  things  he  will  see  in  Parliament  if  he  has  been 
used  to  the  congressional  system  at  Washington.  He 
will  find  that  while  the  laws  of  Britain  have  to  be 
agreed  to  by  the  King,  the  House  of  Lords,  and  the 
House  of  Commons,  it  is  the  House  of  Commons 
which  initiates  nearly  all  legislation  and  has  prac 
tically  complete  power.  The  Cabinet,  which  is  the 
executive  government,  depends  for  its  existence  on  a 
majority  vote  of  the  House  of  Commons,  and  if  it 
fails  to  maintain  a  majority  it  has  to  go  out  of  office, 
and  the  King  has  to  select  a  Cabinet  which  will  be 
supported  by  the  Commons.  Generally  when  a  Gov 
ernment  is  thus  overthrown  there  is  a  general  election, 
and  then  there  comes  back  direct  from  the  people 
a  Government  in  consonance  with  the  desires  and 

wishes  of  the  community.     Hundreds  of  years  of  ex- 

139 


140  The  New  America 

periment  mixed  with  struggles  and  many  compromises 
have  evolved  this  system,  which  suits  the  tempera 
ment  of  the  British  people.  The  King  remains  the 
glowing  symbol  of  a  continuous  and  proud  history 
of  a  thousand  years,  and  thus  represents  an  emotion 
which  has  its  part  in  the  make  up  of  the  nation.  And 
he  moreover  serves  the  purpose  of  what  may  be  called 
a  permanent  chairman  of  the  nation,  summoning  to 
him  the  Ministers  whom  his  people  desire.  The 
Prime  Minister  presides  over  the  Cabinet,  each  mem 
ber  of  whom  takes  his  office  direct  from  the  hands 
of  the  King  and  is  responsible  for  his  own  depart 
ment.  Each  Minister,  the  Prime  Minister  particu 
larly,  has  to  face  his  supporters  and  opponents  in  the 
House  of  Commons  day  by  day,  and  if  necessary 
to  explain  his  policy  and  administration.  The  busi 
ness  of  the  sittings  is  prefaced  by  a  period  during 
which  members  may  put  questions  to  the  various 
Ministers,  friendly  questions,  hostile  questions,  criti 
cal  questions.  Question-time  therefore  it  may  easily 
be  seen  is  a  testing  period,  and  often  enough  a 
critical  one,  for  the  Government.  It  may  be  asked 
what  would  happen  if  the  King  refused  assent  to  the 
laws  passed  by  Parliament.  The  answer  is  that  no 
King  would  do  so,  for  the  situation  would  automati 
cally  adjust  itself.  The  King  acts  on  the  advice  of 
his  Ministers,  who  are  responsible  for  Government 
action.  With  the  House  of  Commons  rests  all  the 


England  Through  a  Telescope  141 

power  to  run  the  country.  It  controls  the  purse 
strings  of  the  nation,  arranges  not  only  the  taxation 
but  the  way  in  which  the  money  shall  be  spent,  pro 
vides  the  resources  for  the  army,  navy  and  civil  serv 
ices.  If  the  Government  were  mad  enough  to  advise 
the  King  to  stand  out  in  opposition  against  the  will 
of  the  majority  of  the  House  of  Commons,  the  House 
could  bring  matters  to  an  abrupt  conclusion  by  re 
fusing  supplies,  by  refusing  to  conduct  any  business. 
The  position  is  such  that  neither  King  nor  Ministers 
are  effective  without  the  support  of  the  House  of 
Commons.  With  this  system  runs  many  traces  of 
ancient  ritual,  some  of  them  interesting  from  a  his 
torical  point  of  view,  and  others  indicative  of  a  love 
of  liberty  which  is  ineradicable.  When  a  message 
is  brought  down  by  an  official  from  the  House  of 
Lords  to  the  House  of  Commons  one  of  the  attend 
ants  always  closes  the  door  of  the  House  of  Commons 
in  their  face,  locks  the  door,  ascertains  their  mission 
through  a  little  wicket  gate  in  one  of  the  panels  and 
finally  with  the  permission  of  the  Speaker  admits 
them.  That  is  to  show  the  Commons  are  supreme 
in  their  own  house  and  that  they  can  shut  out  even  the 
most  highly  placed  persons  if  they  desire  to  do  so. 
The  American  who  is  interested  in  history  will  dis 
cover  traces  of  the  Norman  conquest  remaining  in 
Parliament.  The  King  always  transmits  to  this  day 
his  assent  to  bills  in  the  Norman  French  language. 


142  The  New  America 

"Le  roy  le  veult"  (The  King  wills  it.)  is  the  phrase 
still  used  after  nine  hundred  years. 

In  the  smaller  things  of  life  the  American  will  find 
English  life  in  some  respects  different  from  his  own. 
The  raw  cold  weather  will  be  extremely  disagreeable 
to  a  visitor  especially  in  the  absence  of  that  excellent 
system  of  steam  heating  or  hot  air  heating  which  is 
prevalent  in  America.     The  sense  of  comfort  with 
which  one  enters  an  American  house  or  store  or  any 
kind  of  building  in  America  in  the  winter  will  be 
absent.     Open  coal  fires  are  the  rule  and  though  very 
cheerful  they  are  nothing  like  so  effective  for  the 
warming  of  buildings.     The  halls,  the  passages,  the 
upstairs  rooms,  the  shops,  the  public  halls,  lack  that 
gratifying  soothing  warmth  which  is  such  a  comfort 
in  the  United  States.     In  the  summer  a  visitor  will 
also  miss  the  use  of  ice  water  without  which  no 
American  meal  is  complete.     English  people  do  not 
put  ice  in  their  drinking  water  and  the  consequence  is 
it  seems  soft  and  warm  and  unpalatable  to  an  Ameri 
can.     He  will  find,  at  least  in  peace  time,  surpris 
ing  cheapness  for  some  of  the  common  services  and 
ordinary  commodities.     An  excellent  shave  may  be 
had  for  six  cents  although  some  of  the  more  elaborate 
establishments  may  charge  as  much  as  twelve  cents. 
Motor  omnibuses  radiate  from  London  to  all  parts, 
and  the  common  fare  for  short  distances,  say  a  mile, 
sometimes  as  much  as  two  miles,  is  one  penny  (2c), 


England  Through  a  Telescope  143 

longer  distances  being  charged  in  proportion.  He 
will  find  that  the  men  in  the  street,  the  policemen,  the 
postmen,  the  salesmen  in  the  shops,  the  omnibus  con 
ductors,  the  railway  officials  are  good  humoured  and 
kindly,  with  the  word  "Thank  you"  given  in  return 
continually,  a  species  of  graciousness  which  in  its 
various  forms  reaches  down  to  the  lowest  class.  He 
will  find  caste  distinctions  to  which  he  is  unaccus 
tomed,  a  respect  for  good  clothes,  good  manners  and 
educated  speech  which  while  it  sometimes  descends 
into  snobbery,  has  valuable  uses,  and  curiously 
enough  helps  towards  providing  self  respect.  One 
thing  not  nearly  so  agreeable  is  the  difficulty  to  be 
encountered  in  meeting  people  in  authority,  in 
approaching  big  business  men,  and  in  securing  a 
foothold  for  original  proposals  in  whatever  line  of 
life  one's  activities  tend. 

There  is  reserve,  too,  among  individuals  which  will 
certainly  be  a  little  irksome,  a  standoffishness  which 
requires  that  a  stranger  must  be  tested  out  before 
he  can  be  admitted  to  acquaintanceship  much  less 
to  friendship.  On  the  other  hand  once  a  visitor  is 
received  by  a  family  he  is  treated  with  a  cordiality 
and  open  heartedness  unsurpassed  in  any  nation. 
If  you  become  a  friend  you  are  a  friend  for  good, 
and  there  is  no  kindness  which  will  be  denied.  The 
true  American  will  find  little  real  difficulty  in  secur 
ing  admittance  to  English  home  life  and  that  home 


144  The  New  America 

life  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  possessions  which 
the  country  has.  An  American  who  has  been  a  few 
months  in  England  travelled  about  it,  mixed  with  the 
common  people,  will,  I  trust  and  believe,  find  the  truth 
in  the  words  of  a  recent  writer,  "A  great  country  of 
hill  and  valley,  moorland  and  marsh,  full  of  wood 
lands,  meadows,  and  all  manner  of  flowers,  and 
everywhere  set  with  steadings  and  dear  homesteads, 
old  farms,  and  old  churches  of  greystone  or  flint,  and 
peopled  by  the  kindest  and  quietest  people  in  the 
world." 

I  have  set  out  some  of  the  differences  in  tempera 
ment,  in  manners,  and  in  method,  between  America 
and  England.  Each  people  has  to  live  its  own  life. 
But  the  differences  only  throw  up  into  relief  their 
common  nature  in  the  big  things.  No  person  can 
live  for  a  period  in  England  and  in  America  without 
perceiving  how  like  is  the  thread  which  runs  through 
the  life  of  each.  Determination  for  freedom,  freedom 
for  the  state  and  for  the  individual,  burns  strongly 
in  the  old  country  and  the  new.  Both  nations  are 
virile,  tenacious,  idealistic.  In  rich  America  some 
of  the  leading  citizens,  with  their  faces  forward,  are 
almost  ashamed  of  their  dollars;  in  ancient  aristo 
cratic  England  labouring  men  are  warmly  welcomed 
as  part  of  the  Government. 

The  strength  and  pride  of  each,  with  that  interven 
ing  three  thousand  miles  of  water,  have  in  the  past 


England  Through  a  Telescope  145 

contributed  to  misunderstandings.  A  closer,  more 
sympathetic  knowledge  of  each  other's  daily  life  and 
daily  thoughts  is  to  be  the  great  emollient.  The  mil 
lions  of  American  soldiers  will  play  a  great  part  in 
drawing  the  two  nations  together.  Many  of  these 
soldiers,  perhaps  the  greater  number  of  them,  have 
seen  something  of  England,  and  of  English  people. 
Equally  important  they  have  been  at  close  quarters 
with  Englishmen  in  the  crucial  days  and  nights  of 
the  battlefield.  They  will  bring  to  the  English  peo 
ple,  new  sidelights,  new  ideas,  from  the  great  re 
public  of  the  West.  There  are  moreover  millions 
of  letters  coming  back  from  Europe  to  homes  in  all 
parts  of  the  United  States,  telling  of  the  discoveries 
that  have  been  made  among  these  people,  only  known 
by  tradition  or  by  rumour.  And  presently  there  will 
return  to  America  the  victorious  American  army,  the 
glory  of  the  nation  who  sent  it  forth  with  a  thousand 
further  messages. 

Herein  should  be  the  consolidation  of  unifying  fac 
tors  already  in  existence.  Ties  of  race  are  one  of 
those  factors,  a  common  language  is  even  a  greater. 
Knit  together  thus  with  an  extended  knowledge  and 
a  new  sympathy,  united  in  their  vision  on  the  prob 
lems  of  humanity,  is  there  a  clear  observer  who  can 
doubt  that  the  joint  effort  of  America  and  England 
in  the  future  presages  a  new  era  for  coming  genera 
tions? 

FEINTED    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES    Off    AMERICA 


E  following  pages  contain  advertisements  of  a  few 
of  the  Macmillan  books  on  kindred  subjects. 


The  American  Commonwealth 

BY  JAMES  VISCOUNT  BRYCE,  D.C.L. 
New  Edition,  revised  throughout,  after  many  reprintings 

In  two  crown  8vo  volumes,  $4.00 

"  His  work  rises  at  once  to  an  eminent  place  among  studies  of  great  nations 
and  their  institutions.     It  is,  so  far  as  America  goes,  a  work  unique  in  scope, 
spirit,  and  knowledge.     There  is  nothing  like   it  anywhere  extant,  nothing  that 
approaches   it.  ...  Without   exaggeration   it   may    be   called   the  most   consider 
able  and  gratifying  tribute  that  has  yet  been  bestowed  upon  us  by  an  English 
man,  and  perhaps  by  even  England  herself.  .   .  .  One  despairs  in  an  attempt  to 
five,    in    a    single    newspaper    article,    an    adequate    account    of    a    work    so    in- 
used    with    knowledge    and    sparkling    with    suggestion.   .   .   .   Every    thoughtful 
American  will  read  it  and  will  long  hold  in  grateful  remembrance  its  author's 
name." — New  York  Times. 

"  Written  with  full  knowledge  by  a  distinguished  Englishman  to  dispel  vul 
gar  prejudices  and  to  help  kindred  people  to  understand  each  other  better, 
Professor  Bryce's  work  is  in  a  sense  an  embassy  of  peace,  a  message  of  good 
will  from  one  nation  to  another." —  The  Times,  London. 

"  This  work  will  be  invaluable  ...  to  the  American  citizen  who  wishes  some 
thing  more  than  superficial  knowledge  of  the  political  system  under  which  he 
lives  and  of  the  differences  between  it  and  those  of  other  countries.  .  .  .  The 
fact  is  that  no  writer  has  ever  attempted  to  present  so  comprehensive  an 
account  of  our  political  system  founded  upon  such  length  of  observation, 
enriched  with  so  great  a  mass  of  detail  and  so  thoroughly  practical  in  its 
character.  .  .  .  We  have  here  a  storehouse  of  political  information  regarding 
America  such  as  no  other  writer,  American  or  other,  has  ever  provided  in  one 
work.  ...  It  will  remain  a  standard  even  for  the  American  reader." —  New 
York  Tribune. 


The  American  Commonwealth 

Abridged  Edition,  for  the  use  of  Colleges  and  High  Schools.  Being 
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of  '  The  American  Commonwealth  '  just  issued  by  the  Macmillan  Company. 
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American  World  Policies 

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the  struggle  for  independence  to  this  day;  that  people 
with  whom  we  have  had  more  to  do, —  and  must  seem 
ingly  continue  to  have  more  to  do, —  than  with  any 
other  in  the  world.  The  fact  that  we  are  British  in 
origin,  in  culture,  institutions,  laws  and  language  is 
seen  to  have  influenced  us  in  the  many  crises  that  have 
arisen  in  the  years  of  our  history  as  a  nation.  Dr. 
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THEIR  FUTURE  RELATIONS  AND  JOINT  INTER- 
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BY  GEORGE  LOUIS  BEER 

Author  of  "  British  Colonial  Policy,  1754-1765,"  "  The  Old  Colonial 
System,  1660-1754,"  etc. 

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"  Distinguished  by  such  brilliantly  demonstrated  criticism  of  cur 
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importance  in  the  moulding  of  public  opinion  in  this  country." — 
N.  Y.  Times. 

"  Professor  Beer,  in  this  earnest  and  luminous  volume,  raises  the 
question  whether  it  is  not  about  time  for  us  to  think  a  little  about 
what  we  might,  for  lack  of  an  obviously  better  term,  call  Pan- 
Anglo-Saxonism  and  he  suggests  and  supports  an  affirmative  answer 
with  a  convincing  wealth  of  citations  of  precedents  and  arguments." 
N.  Y.  Tribune. 

"The  student  of  current  movements  and  trends  will  find  this  to 
be  a  thoroughly  considered  and  authoritative  outlook  upon  economic 
interrelations." — Washington  Evening  Star. 

"A  remarkable  book.  .  .  .  The  wonderful  insight  of  the  writer 
has  enabled  him  to  discuss,  with  a  remarkable  degree  of  prophetic 
skill  —  the  question  of  closer  relations  between  Britain,  American 
and  the  English-speaking  peoples  as  a  whole." — Tribune,  Oakland, 
Cal. 


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